Jesus is My Sandman

Yet another amazing encounter: When I was probably about three or four, probably when Nancy was born and needed the crib, I began sleeping on a cot under the small kitchen table. One night I was in tears and confusion, trying to get to sleep, but couldn’t. I don’t know what had happened between my dad and mom. But here’s the cool part. A man I’d never seen before walked into the tiny kitchen and bent down and touched my tear-filled eyes ever so gently. I went instantly to sleep. In the morning I told my mom about the man and she told me it must have been the sandman. So what do you think? We never went to church so I’d never heard of Jesus, but I knew this man was special and that he tenderly loved and cared for me--even though I didn’t know him. I wish I had a picture of his face. I know it was gentle and kind.


So here's my face at 18 months, unaware of all that's to come. Held by the faithfulness of Jesus Himself.