Skipping in the Dark

I don't think my aunt will mind my sharing this on my blog . . .  She told us this story at a family reunion eleven years ago.
So many of my Facebook friends are facing huge trials right now.  My news feed includes a pastor suddenly asked to leave his church because he took a righteous stand, a woman dying of liver cancer while her children suffer illness and cannot come see her, a friend fighting cancer again for the fourth time, and another friend whose step-father just died in the same hospital room where her brother died 9 months ago.  Human reasoning and silly clichés do not work for real problems like this.
During the depression, when my aunt Winifred was just three years old, my grandparents were struggling to make ends meet (like everyone).  One evening, my grandpa went to the cellar, to get more coal to heat the furnace--and there was none left.  On that dark winter night, when it seemed impossible to care for his family, Grandpa took his coat and headed outside to take a walk and pray for God to provide.
Little Winifred saw him with his coat, and she wanted to go walking with him.  Excitedly, she asked, "Can I come too?"  He agreed, and together they stepped out into the dark night.  Winifred held tight to Grandpa's hand, and in the darkness, she slowly began to skip.  Before long, she started to giggle, and she called up to Grandpa, "Daddy!  I can skip!  I can skip in the dark!"
The words pierced him.  He knew, without a doubt, that God would provide coal in his cellar--because you can skip in the dark, when you are holding your Father's hand.
Two and a half decades later, when Winifred and her family had to come home from the mission field of Korea to care for one of their children (who was left in a vegetative state from contracting malaria), Grandpa shared that story with Winifred for the first time.  She could still "skip in the dark," holding onto her Father's hand.
For many of my friends, these are dark days.  Hold on to your Father's hand--and skip.