I’ve always known that there was a reason that darkness has a power. Some of the scariest, loneliest, and worst moments of my life have happened in whispers and cajoles and darkness.
For too long in my life, the power of the darkness swayed me. It convinced me that it was the ultimate truth. Those insidious voices that only pointed out the bad in me and others. That deeply uncomfortable fear that nothing happening in the darkness would ever come into the light.
My walk with Christ has pointed out that as a lie. Everything comes into the light eventually, which makes me feel both happy and incredibly sad. To know that at some point every element of my darkness will be held screaming and bellowing under the weight of God’s judging light-filled hand, it sometimes makes me feel breathless and afraid.
So much of my life I’ve tried to depend on me. I like to feel secure in the rationality and intellectualism that goes on in my head. I like to turn away from emotions and blame them when I’ve done or said something I wish I hadn’t or shouldn’t or didn’t really mean.
He has already stepped into those gaps for me. The one between my emotionalism and my rationalism, He’s granted me His spirit and ensured that I’m never completely alone in my moments of weakness. If anything, I’m more connected to Him because I feel less secure in my own abilities. The one between God’s judging hand and my eternity, He’s there with His perfection and His blood. It’s what He promised when I put my hope in Him and what He’s done.
I’m actually a bit glad for the darkness now. It highlights how clearly I need Jesus to be in my gaps. Because my weaknesses and the depths of my darkness is never outside of His reach.