Like many children, I was afraid of the dark. I don’t know what it is about the unknown that makes it so terrifying, but darkness made my imagination run wild. I shared a bedroom with my sisters, so leaving the light on wasn’t an option. Usually, I could be comforted by surrounding myself with my stuffed animals. That gave me the illusion of safety. But every once in a while, I’d be overcome by the darkness. Then, I would crawl down the dark hallway to my parents’ bedroom and lie on the floor at the foot of their bed.
Now that I am an adult, I fear a different kind of darkness. In those seasons, the unknown is terrifying and my imagination runs wild. A few times, my worst fears have come true, compounding the terror. I don’t have the option of illuminating my own path so I surround myself with friends and familiar comforts, providing a temporary illusion of safety, at best. Ultimately, the darkness envelops me once again and I find that peace can only be found when I crawl to the foot of the cross. But the long hallway to that place of peace can be very, very dark.
One year ago I said “see you later” to the love of my life, just before they put him on a ventilator. That short video call would be the last time I would ever hear his voice. That was the day the darkness started closing in.
Doubt, fear, guilt, lonliness, hopelessness, desperation, bitterness… These are some of the monsters that come out in our midnight moments. They threaten to devour us, yet we often don’t see them coming. What we also often don’t see is that the God of the light is still God in the dark. In fact, He IS the light! I think of how often I’ve stubbed a toe or bruised a thigh, trying to walk through my house in the dark, when all I needed to do was turn on a light!
I read somewhere that in the middle ages, monks would get up in the middle of the night to go to prayer. The monastery path was so dark, they would tie candles to their feet to light the way—but only one step at a time.
I’ve found that God often only gives me enough light for the step I’m on. He holds out his hand, and bids me to trust Him. I’ve begged Him to turn on the floodlight so I could see my way out of the tunnel, but He gives me a candle for my feet instead. Thus, He requires faith and obedience every step of the way.
Looking back over the past year, I can see His faithfulness leading me as I cautiously took each step. I see miracles and providence at every turn. I see Divine provision and protection. I see how He has been preparing the way before me, ever working on my behalf. Even when I can’t see it. Especially when I can’t see it.
Much like a small candle on a monk’s shoe, He dispels the darkness, one step at a time. But in order to see the next step, I must first take the step in front of me.
Step by step by step. One at a time—until I’ve crawled to the foot of the Cross and laid it all down.
When I sit in darkness, the LORD will be a light to me. Micah 7:8b
TPW September 19, 2022