Just Outside the Door

Three of my four grandchildren spent the night last Friday. My two-year-old grandson, Chip, went down at bedtime just fine. But then at 11pm he woke up crying and did not stop for a couple of minutes. I am sure if we had asked his parents, they would have said let him cry. But grandparents don’t roll that way. So I got him out of the crib and laid down with him in the twin bed. He quieted down immediately, and we entered into a somewhat fitful sleep.

Two-year-old little boys flop around a lot in their sleep. At one point Chip plopped his head on my chest. At first I thought he was playing around, but realized, no, the child was fast asleep.

I was not.

At 3am I decided to risk it and see if Chip was up to finishing out the night in his crib. He was not happy about the prospects initially, sitting up in bed and wailing. But then, miraculously, after 60 seconds or so, he stopped crying. The next morning I asked him if he slept well, and he said yes. Well Chip, that makes one of us.

What my grandson did not know at 3am, as he contemplated the darkness of an unfamiliar place, all alone, abandoned in a big room—what Chip did not know was his grandfather was right outside the door. Waiting.

I am pretty sure God is outside our doors too.

Hang in there.