Today's prompt: Mighty.
Somehow, the superhero cape makes you look even sweeter (which I know isn't what you're going for, you with your Captain America doll clutched in your hand, flying around the room defending all that is good and right and defeating the powers of darkness). Whenever you put it on, I want to scoop you up and smell your hair and cover your head with kisses.
At night, when the real darkness comes and you fight back by leaving on all your lights, even the superhero cape can't keep your anxiety at bay. We talk in soft tones about the Worry Monster and the biology of fight or flight and your brain's production of melatonin and assure ourselves that there aren't really any saber-toothed tigers roaming the earth anymore. Extinction is permanent, you say with conviction, but your eyes look a little unsure.
Even superheroes can't guarantee there won't be nightmares.
I'm awash, sometimes- completely unsure myself. Are we doing the right things? How can we help you? And what will you remember- the times I sat down and talked calmly with you about your fears, or the times I snapped and lost my temper and said, "for the love of everything good and holy, would you please just go to bed already?"
I might be bigger than you are, but I can't force you to sleep...and I can't chase away the bad guys and random faces and shadows that seem to creep out of the corners of your room as the sun goes down.
But the God I serve (the one who is mighty to save) is bigger than me- bigger than my impatience, my weakness and my worry. He's bigger than you- bigger than your biggest, meanest fear. His power dwarfs all the bad guys and all the evil in the universe.
Lucky for both of us, he's not too big to come sit by your bed and watch over you while you sleep...and that's exactly what I'm asking of him.
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