The Real Horror story


I used to be afraid of scary things

Of monsters beside my bed

Til the day I confronted the  shady devils


‘Do your worst,’ I said.

I had Jesus by my side.

A God too big to confront.


I was the kid on the playground

with frayed braids and a squeaky voice.

But with His shadow casting a huge fist

the bullies left with no choice.


Then one day I realized, when my own little ones got older

That I had to be strong for them, and my squeaky voice to get bolder.


But I was still that little girl down inside.

I’ve never been strong my whole life, I cried.

I don’t want to do those dishes, or be Jiminy Cricket,

I can’t fix insecurity or loss of dreams or make them work for it.


Possibilities of what can happen to my children keep me up at night.

When they’re too old to be children and the world is so bad and so dark and they don’t seem to be figuring it out;

and they’ve got a problem that no one can solve but I’ve got to be the one who stands up to everyone in the house and also stands up to the doubts…


After struggling to stand somehow through all of that,

The monsters beside my bed don’t scare me so much anymore.


I just reach up my grimy hand, sticky with who knows what kind of old candy. God takes hold and stands tall, casting a great big, comforting shadow. I slip in a bit, half hidden behind his leg.


These are the times when He proves He is real.

When my warbling little voice echoing in the darkness is answered.

I took a leap of faith once when I was lost in a little pit of despair. I trusted and jumped in and the cold waters of dread closed in over my head.

And He caught me and tried to teach me to swim.


This is the reason I don’t write horror stories. Reality is scary but God is so VERY good.

There will be butterflies and little flowers and Springtime bursting and the trust of little children. ‘I love you,’ I say, and it’s all understood.







  1. sherijkennedyriverside · October 11, 2016

    Made me teary-eyed. Thinking of you, my friend.


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