When I was a little girl, I was afraid of the dark. We lived in an apartment on the first floor of what had formerly been a large single-family home. The back door opened into a small mud room. From there, you stepped into a large kitchen and then into what my Mom called the parlor. A long, dark hallway stretched from the parlor to the seldom-used front door and gave access to the three bedrooms. My little room was tucked between the two larger bedrooms.
The apartment, while not large by today's standards, seemed immense to a little girl lying in her bed all alone in the dark night. The distance between her room and the parlor seemed to stretch into eternity. She felt frightened and alone. She dreaded the night.
Her mother bought a tiny night light and plugged it into an outlet right by the door. That night, after bedtime stories and kisses, after the overhead light dimmed and the darkness closed in, that wise Mama turned the little switch on the night light they had named Friend. The soft glow from Friend's bulb dispelled the darkness and the fears. She slept.
The light overcomes the darkness. It needn't be a big spotlight. The smallest of lights will do.
The rest of this little devotional is over at Laced With Grace today. Please join me there.