Gravel Face

   His name was Gravel Face.  He was the one thing that could strike terror, in my heart, at the mere mention of his name.  He was hideous and dangerous.  And unfortunately, he lived under my bed.  I never actually saw him…well at least with my eyes, but I knew he was real and that he was there…EVERY NIGHT.  During the day, I was safe.  But when night fell, danger lurked just below the antique four-poster in my room. 

   Every night was the same.  Standing at the door with my hand on the light switch, I calculated the distance I would have to run/jump to make it into the bed, while keeping my legs and feet just out of reach of his nasty hands.  With the skill of an Olympic triple-jumper, I would dash for bed, trying my best to beat the light.  In one motion, I would land in the bed and cover my head.  I was surrounded by an army of ever vigilant stuffed animals, whose sole mission was to protect me from You-Know-Who.  Long before Harry Potter was created… He Who Must Not Be Named was my enemy-- and I would not mention his name out loud.

   Unfortunately, just about the time my heart would calm and I would venture out from under the security of the cover, our nighttime ritual – just like the Waltons- would begin.

   “Good night, Suzy! Good night, Ricky and Robby!”

     I would quickly answer, “Goodnight, Mama!  Goodnight, Daddy!  Good night, Ricky and Robby!”

   And then, my brothers would answer, “Goodnight, Mama! Goodnight, Daddy!  Goodnight, Suzy!...Goodnight, Gravel Face!”

   And that is the moment I would turn to stone.  No movement, just a constant stare into the dark waiting for the moment of my demise.  Somewhere in the night, sleep would come and I would wake up the next morning in virtually the same position in which I had landed the night before.  Happy for the bright daylight, I would go about my day without a thought about him until nighttime.

   Finally, my parents put an end to Gravel Face.  My mom gave me a small antique lamp made of pink glass.  It was in the shape of a lady wearing hoop skirt, holding an umbrella.  Magical!  Sitting it on my nightstand would not do.  No, I put that gem under my bed.  In fact, from then on, my room was bright at night!  My bed looked as though it sat upon a cloud of neon.  It was awesome!  No more Gravel Face.

   I lost track of that life-saving lamp.  And it wasn’t until last year, some 40 years later, that while visiting one of my aforementioned torturers, I meant, brothers, did I come across that lamp again.  This time in an antique store, and yes, I bought it.  And just in the nick of time.

   The last few months have been a struggle.  It seems that I have hit a speed bump with my health.  Pulmonary Hypertension has taken the place of Gravel Face, and recently, I have experienced that awful feeling of turning to stone.  Monday, I will undergo my 6^th heart catheterization, to monitor the progression of this disease.  Statistically, I am living on borrowed time, and yet, I believe that God gave the lamp back to me as a reminder. 

   My parents had given me light to vanquish the scariest thing in my life, a childhood monster named Gravel Face.  Thankfully, my Heavenly Father brought me from darkness into light, so that I no longer fear the dark.   Monday will be terrifying, but I am confident in Him. I am thankful that as I lay upon the gurney in that Cath Lab, I will be surrounded, engulfed, and wrapped in the warm light of His love.

You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.  Psalm 18:28