Morning Monsters

And I’m not talking about the hair in the shower drain.

Morning Monsters

I’m talking about fears that hover as we sleep, ready to dive bomb our minds at first glimmer of consciousness.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Rustle of covers.  Flutter of eyelids.  Crackle of brain activity.  ZOOM!  There they are.  That problem I was thinking about last night.  That unresolved issue.  That test. That job disappointment.   That big scary future that awaits if every opportunity goes bad in the next five years, which it probably will.  What will happen then?

And we’re awake.

Those morning monsters usually arrive holding the banner of atheism high.

“There is no God.”

There is no God who will meet me with his grace today.  There is no God who will guide my path, comfort me in illness, refine me through trial, provide for my family, arrange circumstances in ways that reveal his glory.

There is only me—and my powers of logic—and my pillow.  A sad trinity.

John Newton must have dealt with morning monsters, but he didn’t lie there and let them attack.  He ordered them to leave because of the active presence of his savior.

Begone, unbelief,
My Savior is near,
And for my relief
Will surely appear;
By prayer let me wrestle,
And He will perform;
With Christ in the vessel,
I smile at the storm. 

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