Darkness, defined, is the absence of light. Buried deep within it, immobilized by the weight, you lose sense of up or down, left or right. Scents and tastes do not penetrate. Why am I here? What do I do? How do I get out? There is a penetrating coldness that seeps in and permeates your deepest corners.
Just when the isolation threatens to consume you, you start to hear. You’re not truly alone. The warmth of the Son thaws and softens the weight. The reassuring stirring within you brings an awareness of life. In the absolute stillness you listen thoughtfully and prayerfully and gain a sense of direction. There it is, the hand to guide you. It’s been there all along, holding onto you. You just couldn’t see it. But now, you can feel it. You grab on tight. And hold onto the promise that He will never let you go.
Hands and prayers lift you up. The process is painstakingly long. You’re in too deep and you’re not strong enough to make it on your own. You lose your grip. Your process is slowed. But He hasn’t lost His. Powerful, loving hands still hold yours. Words written on your heart become a mantra in your mind.
You can hear the soft rain of truth gently poured out, raining down and saturating the dark around you.
Tighten your grip.
Now you can see it. The light of the Son, penetrating the darkness and overcoming it. Your path is becoming clearer and you are pushing through.
You were not buried at all. You had been planted. You weren’t just struggling to the surface, you’d been laying roots. Roots deep enough and strong enough to hold fast to the truth planted within your heart. Tenderly sprouting to the surface, buffeted by the cool winds of spring, soaking rains and thawing snow, you strain towards the light of hope in the Son.
And rejoice in the roots sewn so deep there is promise of the strength to endure, to persevere, to grow in Christ, and bear much fruit. The darkness is fresh in your memory and there are some bruises from the battle to the surface, but the darkness did not overcome!
And now! Now you can see the beauty of His grace surrounding you. His creation coming to life, blooming in a palette no artist can capture. You can hear His birds singing His praises and smell the damp earth shrugging off the last remnants of frost.
I will bask now in the warmth of the Son, soak in every last drop of truth poured out onto me, grow roots ever deeper in Christ and bear as much fruit as He calls me to. For today is the day that the Lord has made and I will rejoice and be glad in it for His glory, and my good.