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The terror by night… A terrible thing to experience. And yet, when it seems the darkness could not get any worse, there is the promise of our heavenly Father, who tells us again and again that we do not need to be afraid of the dark. After all, it is in the dark that we learn to walk with our Savior.

And about walking? Will you walk with me through this short story and discover if the terror by night was defeated this time as well?

Painting: The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli (1781)

Terror by Night

“You shall not be afraid of the terror by night…”
Psalm 91:5

“Hey… wake up, you.”

Still half asleep, the voice sounded far away. Yet, it sounded threatening and cold.

I was just dreaming of a quiet forest on a warm spring morning. Sunlight filtered through the trees, and the smell of fresh grass filled the air. My soul felt light, young and alive.

But that was about to change.

“I said, wake up,” the voice repeated, this time louder.

I still tried to push it away, but I could not. I had to listen to this jarring voice.

The beauty of the fields vanished.

I opened my eyes. It was dark.

Someone was standing beside my bed. I swallowed hard. Who was it?

“It’s me,” the voice continued as if he’d heard the unspoken question. “It’s the dead of night. A good time to talk.”

“What?”

I blinked and glanced at my alarm clock. Exactly two in the morning. Who in the world needed to talk to me at this hour?

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I finally saw him. I shivered.

His piercing yellow eyes stared at me with venomous intensity. I pulled the sheets over my head, hoping it would be enough to avoid confrontation. Obviously, it was not. I knew who it was that stood by my bed.

The Accuser.

“Leave me alone,” I mumbled.

Of course, that wouldn’t work. I heard him breathing. Short, excited gasps came from his throat. At last, he hissed, “You can’t keep running away from your problems. I’ve been around a lot longer than you, so I counsel you to listen. My advice is priceless, but offered to you free of charge.”

I did not want to hear it.

The Accuser always came at night when I was weak and unprepared. He came to sell me a bunch of lies.

By now, the last traces of the peace from my dream had slipped away like water through a sieve. I gritted my teeth. Clearly, the fiend wanted another fight.

“There are several important matters we need to discuss,” the Accuser said. “Areas in which you have displeased the One you claim to believe in. Take it from me, He’s not happy.”

I braced myself.

“Let’s start with your children,” he rasped.

“My children?”

“Yes, those wonderful kids of yours. We both know it’s not going so well, don’t we?”

“W-what about them?”

“Come on,” he said. “Don’t kid yourself. Seriously, how can you even sleep? You have virtually ruined your kids. All of them. But instead of worrying about it, you are just sleeping the sleep of the innocent.”

“Stop it!” I yelled. “Leave me alone.”

“Can’t do. Do you really think the One you claim to serve can accept such a failure?”

“You’re just saying that,” I shot back. “It’s not true.”

“Oh, you think so?” the Accuser replied. “Can’t believe your attitude. Some Christian father you turned out to be. No wonder your children find it so hard to believe the Bible.”

He hissed the last words, and suddenly my mind filled with images of all the terrible things that could happen to my children. There they were, drifting from the faith. Drugs. Divorce. Financial issues. The whole mess.

“And that,” the Accuser went on, “is only the beginning. And you think you can just stroll through God’s forests, enjoying life and the love of God. Shame on you.”

I swallowed hard. I lifted my finger, but strength failed me. “But…I…”

“You want to deny the truth?” he drawled. “I tell you; there’s just no hope for you.”

He slammed his knotted fist onto my nightstand, sending my alarm clock flying. As it spun, I glimpsed the time.

Half-past two.

“You don’t understand…” I protested weakly. “It’s not true. It’s different.”

My hand now trembled and all strength seemed to have drained out of me. The flood of darkness pouring over me was too great. How hopeless the night suddenly felt, and I had nothing to defend myself with.

For a moment silence reigned, but it didn’t comfort me. I still sensed the suffocating darkness.

“Look,” the Accuser sneered again, “I’m only trying to help you. After all, to be forewarned is to be forearmed.”

“I don’t want your help,” I sighed while fighting the rising headache. “It’s not helping.”

“Oh,” the Accuser said. “You don’t want to hear about your kids? Then let’s talk about your finances.”

“No,” I wailed. “I don’t want to.”

“Of course you don’t,” he snickered. “But truth be told, the way you are going about your business, it’s obvious you’ll be bankrupt in a month or two. Homeless at best.” He paused for impact. I could not see his wretched face, but I was sure it held a victorious grin when he announced, “And here’s another subject, very dear to your heart.”

“What’s that?” I argued. I was so tired. So very tired.

“Your health,” he said in a booming voice. “That sharp pain in your abdomen you had yesterday… I tell you, that’s not good. Not good at all. Do you actually realize death may come to you?”

Somehow a fresh stream of visions appeared. Blood and gore. Needles, hospitals, accidents… Patronizing doctors. Truly, it was a terrifying movie.

Tears welled up.

God… Jesus. Help me, please.

It startled the Accuser. I heard him squeal, “No… No… don’t call on that name. It won’t do you any good. You’ve gone too far.”

But another voice drowned him out. Soft, but firm and deep inside. At first barely audible, yet somehow perfectly clear. It was a voice filled with love.

“Cast all your cares upon Me, for I care for you.”

The darkness thickened.

The room felt heavier. But I held onto the words. “God-cares-for-me.”

For a moment, a deep silence settled over the room, and I saw the darkness shrink. The creature still stood before me. Now small and almost laughable. I pointed my finger into his filthy face.

“The Son of God loves me, deceiver,” I said. “Immanuel… God is with me. It’s true that many things are wrong with me and that there will be many storms in the future. But He walks beside me. He holds me. He has forgiven me for all the things I did wrong. In Him, I am a new creature. Be silent. Leave me.”

Peace filled my heart.

Rest returned.

The tears did too. With a tear-stained face, I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and whispered a prayer.

“Thank you, my dear Savior, for fighting for me. You never fail in even the smallest of Your promises.”

And I sat there, for at least another half hour, soaking in God’s goodness. Still the same sinner, full of problems. But a sinner, dressed in the garments of God’s white forgiveness.

Be gone, terror of the night. You have no place here anymore.

____

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