But I felt that the risk of discovery was far outweighed by the emptiness I felt. So, I would go to the kitchen and get a small paper cup of chocolate chips! Yes! The answer I needed! But in order to get the comfort from that chocolate, I had to make the grueling trek from the living room, through the dining room to the kitchen. The dark kitchen! I was terrified that "they," who lurked under tables and in darkened corners, would grab my ankles as I passed by, so I would race to the kitchen where I would pull on the light switch to flood the room with the glorious glow from the overhead bulb.

Oh, Jesus is just like that light in the kitchen! When He enters the dark places in our lives, His light brings us safety and assurance. His love's glow warms our hearts and casts out all fear. He dispels the darkness, overtaking it in an instant!

Back to my story (I just can't talk long without bringing Him into the picture!). I believed that, as I scooped out a small cup of chips and raced back to my chair by the dreaded window, my parents would arrive before I could finish them off. So I would place one tiny chocolate chip on my tongue and savor it, melting it and sucking on it until all traces were gone. Then I would put in another and do the same ritual. When I got to the bottom of that cup, I just knew that my parents would surely be home! Sadly, it usually required at least two or three trips to the kitchen before they arrived. When they DID arrive, I would have to fly to the kitchen to get rid of any chips or evidence of having "stolen" them before my father entered the house or he would severely lash me with his tongue for hours. I would try to sit perfectly still, breathlessly panting as quietly as I could as they came through the door, desperately trying to look innocent and "normal."

My father had a love of frightening me. He would frequently enter my room where I would be lost in a book or some project, and he would stand silently nearby, watching and waiting. He found delight when I would catch sight of him and would startle and gasp in shock. He also found a perverse joy in stealing my light bulb from my bedroom and holding it for several days. If I accidentally left my light on while I went to the bathroom 15 feet away, I would inevitably return to an empty socket. Knowing my terror of the dark, he knew just how to tap into that river of fear.

Fear accompanied me not only during my waking hours, but especially all night long. Sleep, which should have been safe and as sweet as the chocolate chips I stole, was full of nightmares . . . both in dreams and in reality. .