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  • Writer's pictureKaty D-H

Even in the darkness



Dear friend,


It is so cold in my house I am watching the steam dance out of the top of my mug of tea. I’ve put all the twinkly Christmas lights on and lit all of the candles except the four I am saving for Christmas Day.


We crave the feeling of cosiness in these days when twilight comes early. It’s why we have got into “hygge” as a warm antidote to the coldness and darkness of winter.


In the last few posts I have been conscious that while it’s good to be still and quiet, sometimes when I get there, I look into my heart and it’s dark.


Sometimes there is lots of pain and fear and dark in there. This feels all wrong. Darkness is about confusion. The this-doesn’t-make-sense-ness of our circumstances. When we look at life and think, “How is this a good plan?” And even more painful, “God, where have you gone?”


In psalm 88, the writer tells God, “You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths.” (Verse 6)


If that’s what you’re feeling today I’m really sorry. Confusion and loneliness of the heart are just the most incredibly painful things to face. I am sorry you feel like God is not present, not real, or not doing anything.


When I first got poorly I felt like a God was being an idiot. I couldn’t understand why He was keeping me from doing useful things, let alone the things and people that brought me joy. I was hurt and I didn’t want to spend time with God because I didn’t trust Him. But God didn’t leave me. He found little cracks in my walls and He gently found His way back in.

You know when you’re having an argument (normally with Sam for me) and you know you’re wrong but you’re not sure how to back down? Crying is normally my best way of breaking down walls, it sort of softens everyone back up. I think there’s something in that with God. We have to turn to Him and shout until we start crying.


“Pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.” Psalm 62:8


God can take it. Before we can come to a place of peace with God we have to face our darkness. And that means really engage with Him on the stuff that is in the way. He longs to connect with us in the darkest places. He is strong enough to handle all that pain.


Because of Jesus, God is a God of endless empathy. He has experienced the complete darkness of the cross. I think it’s crazy that when Jesus died it went completely dark. (Matthew 27:45) And Jesus was in that moment completely separated from God the Father, which is why He shouted “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46) So Jesus knows what it is to be in darkness, what it is to be alone. Which means He can come alongside me in a way that no one else can. He gets it.


And then when He does, something changes. We are not alone any more. This does not mean I got better. It does not mean I felt better inside straight away. But the thing I experienced after ignoring God, then shouting at God until I cried, was being heard. Being heard, and being held.


“If I say, surely the darkness will hide me,

and the light will become night around me,”

Even the darkness will not be dark to you;

The night will shine like the day,

For darkness is as light to you.” Psalm 139:11-12


When I was 18 I went to live in China for 6 months and I experienced a time in that desert (literal and emotional) when I felt swallowed alive by loneliness. I couldn’t speak the language, I had no one I felt I could talk to, and then Skype broke. I felt completely abandoned and I screamed/sobbed/wailed at God, something along the lines of “Why on earth have you brought me here to leave me??”


Then I read this verse: “The Lord hears when I call to Him.” (Psalm 4:3) All of a sudden I had this powerful awareness of God being in the room with me, and when I shut my eyes it was as if I could see a powerful light in the corner of the room. He literally turned up in the darkness. And in that particular instance, I was completely, immediately transformed. I felt like I had faced the worst thing in the world, completely alone with the worst of myself, and He was there. In the darkest pit, He was there. And the darkness left. This is the greatest miracle I have ever personally experienced.


“For with you, is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.” Psalm 36:9


Light in darkness, true hygge, begins with facing our darkness and then inviting in the only one who can create light, who is Himself light. That’s when we become children of light (John 12:36), that’s when we become radiant (psalm 34:5).


You are known. You are heard. You are held. He is the light in the darkness.


Katy x


 

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