The darkness is not always frightening
This week was one of the more challenging since moving from Florida to Ohio. It's hard to believe I've only been here for two months. It seems like so much has happened, and yet so little has changed. I'm guessing that's how we all probably feel about the past eleven months or so.
When I give myself to something, I give my whole self to it. I especially give it when I'm facing the sorrows and suffering of others. Justice and goodness are things I long for with my entire being. While that's a gift in many ways, it's also a weakness, one that can easily be used as a weapon against my own well-being.
When pressures mount and I sense stress building, I notice the need for retreat. I'm thankful that God has pruned away false securities in recent years so that I recognize these tendencies more clearly. Yet still, I sometimes find myself surprised by my weaknesses. Irrational thoughts can swirl, sleeplessness and irritability may follow. I begin waking in the dark hours of morning with anxiousness welling up about the day ahead of me.
I had one of those mornings this week. I started thinking about the darkness as I felt it all around me. Rather than let my thoughts continue spiraling, I recalled a recent counseling session where I encouraged someone to explore the themes of darkness and light in her life. I picked up a new book I added to my stack last week — Prayer in the Night: For Those Who Work or Watch or Weep by Tish Harrison Warren.
"My deepest question, Where is God in all this?, is an ache that I hope to endure until my longing meets its end. I want justice; I want resurrection; I want wholeness, wellness, and restoration. And I won't be fully satisfied until God — before whose face our questions die away — sets every last thing right."
These places of unanswered questions, silenced longings for right to win and lingering doubts about the intentions of others. These places demand retreat. We can only endure them for so long before we begin to crack. One of the ways I've chosen to prioritize retreat during this season is by joining a writing group. I've always wanted to take part in a mentoring group where I could better explore my writing interests and find out how God wants me to steward that desire for his glory. Between the cost and my own insecurities, I kept putting it off. Is it even needful to share my writing beyond the pages of my private notebooks? Words are everywhere. But in God's kindness in these early weeks of 2021, I was able to get connected with a new group, facilitated by a couple of writers I've been quietly reading and admiring for several years. It was reasonably priced, I was welcomed with joyful hospitality, and it just felt like the right fit.
While this week brought moments of anxiety and doubt, it also brought fresh reminders of God's faithfulness. He met me in the dark moments, with a kind friend who offered reassuring words, an unexplainable endurance for long hours of work, and a reminder that he does answer prayers that I've sometimes forgotten as time passed. The darkness is not always frightening. Sometimes it's the space where our deepest longings are met with God's presence in a unique way.