LIGHT In Darkness

Darkness is for me what the Himalayas or Kilimanjaro is for a climber: a summit challenge which would test every ounce of my humanity. While most individuals who set out to conquer such a mountain are physically fit and conditioned adults, I was but a young child when I began my climb. Unlike the adventurers who tackled their nemesis in the light of day, I had to tackle mine in the depth of night.

I grew up in darkness. This simple statement, while true, has several applications in my life. First, I was raised in a home void of the Spirit of God. While my mother's family claimed an association with the Lutheran Church, they were not connected to any body. My father's side, however, had ties to Mormonism. My youngest years were therefore spent in halls I remember to be dark and scary. Yet, a few light moments also remain of: a pleasant song; "Popcorn Popping On An Apricot Tree," a fanciful felt Santa craft, and passing of the communion plates in chapel. These images are unequally yoked with white collared visits in our home: where my younger sister and I were restricted to our room for the evening,and the horrifying witness of my sister's baptism. Coincidentally, my terror of that moment fueled a rebellion in my spirit which my parents had not the conviction to fight. They had a bigger battle on their hands...their marriage was over.

Darkness therefore took on a second form: the light of hope was put out as the darkness of divorce-before divorce was common--loomed about my family. Still, while others in our home were able to close their eyes and set aside the pains of the day, I lie awake, pinned to my bed in terror afraid of the presence I felt in the dark. Thus, literal darkness became a paralyzing third issue in my life.

Youthful attempts to find comfort in the company of siblings was refused me and my mother's bed--seldom occupied--offered no haven for a fear filled child. Therefore, my young and dangerously imaginative mind was left to fight the enemy of souls without a shield of faith or the sword of the Spirit. As one can imagine, my years in the dark were taxing: I was bound with fear and rightly so, for the tormentor circled me, his monstrous jaws opened wide for a kill.

Though the darkness stalked me like prey, he was not allowed to devour me. For my eternal destiny was held by the Light.

Oh, I wish I could take the time to tell you all the treasures of my journey. For the Lord was generous to mark the path with precious stones. No doubt your story of salvation is just as embellished. Yet, recently the Lord has revealed a truth in my story that fits with today's devotional: "Whatever I tell you in the dark, speak in the light; and what you hear in the ear, preach on the housetops," (Matthew 10:27NIV).

My father left us the summer before I turned five. The following four years we lived in our small Whittier home--until our mother remarried--were extremely traumatizing for me. My heart began to turn as cold as my mothers sheets, and I developed a "me against the world," mindset. I dreaded the night more than I can convey. Tragically, my oldest sister was fascinated with scary movies and in her youth thought my fear was humorous. I was exposed to the worst of sights and sounds while our mother was away from home. Sadly, in the middle of the night, my only comfort was the hall light. Sometimes, someone would leave the hall light on for me. Lying in my bed, I would stare at my open door, which was illuminated, and stood out against the dark room.

I was often puzzled by a strange "sense" that would come over me as a child while staring petrified at my door. A desire to grasp...something...thick and yet, thin and intangible. I remember how, the moment I tried to focus on the sensation it would slip away. However, it would return again and again: like something stuck in your peripheral vision. I remember this distraction being the only thing that would take my mind off the darkness that surrounded me. Often it held my attention until fatigue washed over me or the sun settled my fear. This feeling would sporadically come over me through the years and always left me intrigued.

A couple of years ago, I was experiencing the slow recovery from an operation. I was comfortably set up downstairs in our home for my period of convalescence. Once again, I found myself awake in the middle of the night. Only I was no longer afraid. Through strenuous effort, the Lord gave me the courage and the strength necessary to climb my mountain of darkness. Remarkably, we slayed the army of terrors, which brutally attacked me, while in the dark much of my life.

Lying in the dark--in a moment of communion--the familiar sensation of my youth came over me. Immediately, I was taken back to my childhood room: a vision of my bedroom door--washed in light--was before me. The momentary grip of fear associated with the vision was loosed and the tender voice of God filled my ears. "I was with you." The Lord revealed after thirty-five years, that He was the presence I had felt in my greatest moments of fear. His words were a balm to a childhood wound: "I will never leave you or forsake you," mended a broken part of my past. I cried out into the night: "My God! My God! What love! What mercy! That You would keep your word before I ever knew you!" The tender mercy of God called forth the trembling child within and together we found Peace in the night.

I wept such tears of appreciation that early morning. The thought of Jesus: standing in my midst, watching over me, keeping the devil a safe distance in the absence of parental care, overwhelmed me. I am still amazed at God's faithful affection. And, though my heart praises the Lord for his love and protection, a part aches knowing my Savior was so close and yet, I was years from beholding Him.

Oswald's devotional reminds us: "Sometimes God puts us through the experience and discipline of darkness to teach us to hear and obey Him." However, the Lord is faithful and though we may not "sense" his presence in our dark moments, He is with us. I have learned darkness is only the absence of light. In and of itself, darkness is harmless. What happens in the dark is what can harm us. We can allow fear of what looms in darkness to terrorize and immobilize us, or we can hold the enemy at a safe distance by bringing the Light of the World into our dark moments. When we do so, the presence of the Lord will surely captivate us. Darkness can NOT abide in Light!

The Lord spoke to me in the darkness. I have indeed seen the Light. Obediently I share with you what He has revealed to me. If you are in a moment of darkness, be encouraged...the LORD is with you! I pray you will sense His presence.

May the Glory of the LORD shine upon us all!