Arms wrapped tightly around their screaming bodies, I fell hopeless in circumstances. Tears invaded as the reality of anyone’s worst nightmare consumed with numbness. The brake lights faded into the distance and prayers were offered between the wails.
The sudden emptiness was vast. It was the first night in 9 years that I would pray alone. The first time I would sleep in an empty bed. And the first time I would have no lunch to pack in the morning. The sun would set early on our home that night. Darkness would surround the brokenness. And thoughts and “what-if’s” would haunt me.
It was when the duties were done for routine’s sake that the darkness consumed. With the last tear cried and last baby rocked, I stood staring at what seemed to be the largest, most empty house. At this moment, I didn’t even feel any pain. Everything was numb and dark. A thick fog descended on my mind. I was lost in my own house. For what seemed like an eternity, my face laid planted into the carpet as I sobbed. What am I supposed to do now?
What would seem a like a question about the future was nothing more than a question about this very moment. What do I do? Should I eat or take a bath? Should I do some laundry or tackle that sink of dishes? The question fell on deaf ears. There was no answer. Nothing that would be reasonable. Except maybe that one book. Yes, the one that I carry to church and open from time to time. The one where He promises me that he holds the answer.
But, I scarcely knew where to begin. I’d never really read it. Oh, I’d looked at various books every Sunday for over 30 years, but I’d never READ it. I fumbled around and I asked Him to speak. At first my heart was comforted by the words of the psalmist. He is my refuge and my strength. Yes, oh, how I need both of those. I read for hours, relishing the stories of His faithfulness. Nations were saved. Enemies defeated. Brokenness healed.
But then through a seemingly random rabbit trail, I landed in Revelation. Chapter 21.
The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. (Revelation 21:23 NIV)
The numbness began to fade, as I could feel His glory. No need for the sun or the moon. The glory of God alone gives light to our home. Circumstances would not dictate our future. For the darkness may surround us, but the Lamb is our lamp. That day, I would not know the pain in my future. I could not fathom the circumstances that would crash waves of evil into our home. But I knew that He was faithful and I knew that He had promised. In those promises sleep would eventually come, both that night after every night since.
Yes, it’s been dark for a very long time, but the lamp is still on. He’s still leading us through the narrow tunnel toward home. A place where we will never again rely on the sun as the glory of God consumes us.
originally journalled 4/19/10
How have you seen His light in your life?
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