It was our first night in the new parsonage. The November sky was filled with heavy clouds which prevented any moonlight or starlight from breaking through the shutters on our sliding glass door. It was as dark a night as I can ever recall. Cheryl had claimed her side of the bed – the one with easiest access to the bathroom, and I joyfully claimed my side of the bed. After a day of unloading and unpacking, we fell asleep, exhausted, but content in our new home.

As sometimes happens to middle aged men, I was awakened in the middle of the night and stumbled my way to the bathroom. After answering nature’s call, I had to navigate myself back to our queen size bed with the pencil posts on each corner. Completely disoriented by the darkness, and knowing the dangers of oncoming pencil posts, I …