In the third chapter of Tunneling, seeds of anger take root in Collin’s mind from his father’s abandonment. Anger is personified through his elaborate drawings in his sketch pad, and give him a fitful night sleep:
Chapter 3: “Seeds of Change”
Perched at the foot of Collin’s bed was the winged gargoyle from his drawing, hungry to pounce.
It drooled over his blankets, baring its long blade-shaped teeth while staring wide-eyed at Collin’s body as he slept, and slid his claws over the bumps and curves of his unresponsive form. Then, without warning, Collin felt the jolt of falling as it grabbed him, dragging him under his bed then splintering his already fragmented mind through a crack in the floorboards.
Dazed, he found himself on the underside of the so-called prairie-dog holes.
He paused only seconds to catch his bearing and then felt his muscles pulled and jerked around by the hideous creature as it made its way through hidden tunnels. Collin felt his whole body being flung out into an open field, like a discarded rag doll.
Collin squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust through the thick fog and mist, but all he could see was an old classic black-and-white horror film with choppy and spliced-together scenes that rambled and jumped across his still-blurred vision.
He stood up in the middle of the empty field, trying to gather his bearings, alone with only his black-and-white vision.
Then across the field he spotted a squatty gnome running with a shovel, obviously on a mission, and grumbling some obscenities about being seen. Just as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared into a nearby hole.
Collin sat up in his bed, drenched with sweat and clenching at his beating chest as if trying to keep his heart inside. He caught himself checking his pajamas for mud then realized it must have been a dream.
Letting his head fall back on his pillow, he tried to figure out how something that felt so real could be merely a dream. What on earth did it all mean? Dreams usually had no meaning at all, but why did this one seem like it was screaming something out to him? A warning maybe?
Glancing around his room, he noticed the familiarity of his Batman night-light.
His pulse began to slow down as the gentle light dispersed a golden hue upon familiar pieces of furniture around the walls in his room.
Collin then pulled the covers up around his narrow shoulders and gazed at shadows that lurked around.
Morning was approaching way too quickly, and he had the rest of his room to pack.
For now, he had to sweep the unknown fears under his bed, along with the unresolved nightmares.
(illustrations by: Nick Wallace)
How many times do we, like children, personify our hurts and worries into monsters that lie in bed with us, laying havoc with our sleep? We toss and turn, wrestling with fear and disappointment until we wake up the next morning to face our giants. God promises in His word to give us sweet sleep. Could this be if we trust in a God that is big enough to take care of all of our needs, loving enough to concern Himself with what concerns us, and powerful enough to chase away all of our enemies, that we can lay our heads down and rest in His loving goodness.
God is our loving Father that soothes away the fears in our lives. Just as we could trust our parents were big and strong enough to chase out the creatures under our beds and in our closets, with one flick of the light bulb, we can trust our heavenly Father to light up our path by watching over us and protect us. Before you lay your head down at night, give God your hurt, anger, fear, and disappointment. If you don’t take them into bed with you, than you will have more room to stretch out inside the peace of God.