Night can be beautiful when dreams of sugar plums dance through your head. When worries have wandered away and left you relaxed, the descending darkness comes like a billowy blanket of down. God has washed behind your years and you feel clean and content as you slip into the freshly washed sheets for a long winter’s nap. No doubt about it, night can be nice.

But it is not always that cozy and comfortable. Night can be blacker than a hundred midnights in a southern swamp. Anxiety, fear and pain become like giant mosquitos that attack you in hordes. You toss and turn and somehow the bed just doesn’t fit. You pace the floor and it does not pacify your plight. The ticking of the clock sounds like a time-bomb ready to explode. But even as it ticks, time seems as though it is standing still. The …