#thruthedark

I'm struck by this: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." (Psalm 23:4, ESV) I will fear no evil. Through the dark, I have no need to fear evil. Though death impacts me, I will fear no evil. You are with me. Shepherd King, You are with me. That changes everything.

The ending of the story is important. When I'm walking through the dark, it's easy to forget the ending. It's easy to believe that all of my reality is in the here and now, in the pain and struggle. I listened to The Magician's Nephew by CS Lewis on audio book yesterday, and I can't tell you how good it was for my soul to imagine another world and to long for another world and realize that I was very much made for another world as CS Lewis declares of us. I felt like my head was lifted above water, and I breathed fresh air. Joy is upcoming. It is very hard to keep my eyes on the Light at the end when I'm walking through dark. Very hard. Sometimes, I can't, but sometimes, Jesus reaches through and lets that light slip in brilliantly through a song on the radio, the kind and well-timed words of a friend, the smile of a stranger, an audio version of a children's book. He gives me hints of joy, hints of light-coming.

I'm realizing that following Jesus means that there's a lot of walking through the dark. AJ Swoboda wrote a book called "A Glorious Dark." I'm eating it up. He splits our walk with Jesus into three phases: Good Friday, Saturday, and Easter Sunday. We all go through phases when one of these days becomes more of a focus to us. Sometimes, we're stuck in our pain (Friday) and our confusion (Saturday). Other times we're living on the other end, able to see God at work in our world (Sunday). I'm processing a lot, but I'm learning that dark is a common shade as we walk this journey Jesus has for us. There's comfort in the normalicy of that. I'm not alone. You're not alone. This is a well-worn path.

Yes, I know. I'm behind. But maybe there's a pace of its own in the dark. One thing I'm learning is that when I walk through the dark, sometimes God's voice sounds very dark. Sometimes I project my own feelings into God's Word, and Jesus sounds angry. In these times, I have to retune my ears to hear His tone. Sometimes, I have to step back a little from His written Word and hear His Word again through nature and songs and friends and Church. I need to retune my ears to love, so that I can read His Words through Love. This is my theory at least. This is how God has recently drawn me back into His love.

Well rats. I already missed a posting day. Such is life. One thing on my mind lately has been the word "through," that this is important. If I had the magic to make this season go away, it wouldn't help one bit. I need to go through it. I need to face what's inside of me and outside of me. THROUGH. I'm glad I'm not alone in it. Step by step.

"Now I am hidden In the safety of your love I trust your heart and your intentions Trust you completely I’m listening intently You’ll guide me through these many shadows." May this be my song . . . through these many shadows. Amen.

I am beginning to realize more and more how easy it is to distract myself, to keep myself from the quiet. All it takes are the Facebook messages I let pile up, the texts I don't respond to, the letters that need responses, the food that needs to be made, the insurance I need to apply for, the friends I want to see to escape from the above lists . . . you know. There is always something. "but few things are needed--or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." - Luke 10:42

I drove off to a coffee shop late morning, and I sat there for hours. Journaling, reading, processing. It started out feeling like relief, but then I moved past the surface, and because I was finally allowing myself to experience silence, I began to tap into the darkness. To be continued.