It’s when I’m walking in the dark that I stumble on them and curse. Small, brass pyramids – their triangular shapes piercing into my tender skin.
We had purchased several sets, one for each child. Stocking stuffers that had seemed a good idea at the time.
But in the middle of the night, in the dark I glare at the idea. Who cares about the details? All I know is they were where they were not supposed to be – the floor.
They hurt me and I’m angry.
And that’s what happens when I try to walk in the dark. I stumble and I hurt myself. It’s either a bed post or dresser corner, pair of shoes or pieces of Lego. It matters not what it is, the fact remains – I stumble and I hurt myself.
I can’t walk in the dark. I must have a light.
The spiritual lesson is not lost on me. I’m clear as to what this means. I can’t do this walk of life without a light. Even a pinpoint of light is enough to guide me and keep me safe from obstacles.
Because I can’t walk in the dark, I get hurt walking in the dark.
You, O Lord, Keep my lamp burning;
My God turns my darkness into light.