When Darkness Falls

I had a very hard week last week.  It all began with one negative thought, and before I knew it, I had spiraled downward toward the darkness.

When you are in the darkness, you know it.  And you know that it’s not where you want to be. You know that light is possible and that where you are is based on lies and tainted emotions.  You know that it is not God’s place for you and that all you are feeling is the result of a skewed perspective.  You know in your brain, but you cannot transfer that knowledge to your soul.  Not while in the midst of the darkness.

I cried out to God, “Why?  Why again?  Why am I right back down in the pit where I swore I would never go again?  I thought we were done with this!  I thought life was new for me!”  And yet I sat, the dark still holding on, manifesting itself in obsessive thoughts, anxiety, and hopelessness.  Why, indeed.

I found myself questioning God, lacking faith and trust, and it broke my heart.  I felt myself teetering toward worldly solutions again and hating myself for it. The shame was overwhelming.  And though I would tell myself that shame is not of God, the dark voices screamed above that thought, shrinking it to a grain of sand. I have been so afraid of forgetting what God has shown me thus far in my journey with anxiety and obsession.  And last week was like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I thought to myself, “Yep, here we go. I was right.  I forgot.  I’ve fallen down the trail again.”

Sometimes the emotions are just too much and the Truth you have hidden in your heart feels just that way – hidden.

I don’t know why we go to dark places.  I don’t like it one bit.  And nowhere in this blog post will you find a resolute “AND HERE IS THE ANSWER.”

In these moments of darkness, all I can do is stick to what I know, no matter how I feel (ah, there’s the rub).  I DO know that the Bible is Truth, and my emotions have no bearing on that Truth.  I DO know that when I see no way out of my shadows, prayer and the Word of God are lifelines to healing and power,even when I feel powerless.  

So I took the only route I knew to take.  I cried out to God, I asked for prayer from a spirit-filled friend, and I read the Scriptures.  Starting in Genesis, as a matter of fact.  (I’ve begun reading a chronological Bible, so I’m literally beginning at the Beginning.)

And I know God is working all the while.  I don’t get it, I don’t like it, I spend a lot time blaming myself and feeling horribly sinful (NOT God’s will, by the way), but because of the Holy Spirit’s presence in me, I do know that God is alive and working no matter where I am emotionally or psychologically.

I heard this phrase on the podcast I was listening to this morning (The Happy Hour With Jamie Ivey): “In order for people to grow you have to be broken from what you once were.”  Granted, this is not some revolutionary new idea, but one of those “I need you to hear this again, Mandi” moments from God.  The interviewee on the podcast (Jasmine Star) went on to share that she has experienced a shift in thinking over the years from Why is this happening to me? to Why is this happening for me? She understands Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Last night an impression came over me, one that I believe came from outside of myself.  Not audibly at all, but I suddenly had the thought, “God and I are gonna do this together.  He is on my side.”  That’s it. Nothing fancy or earth-shaking, but it brought me peace.  

I believe God hears our cries for help, and I believe He answers, be it ever so subtly.  A thought, a podcast, a godly person’s prayer, or even the simple story of Noah and the flood (I’m in Genesis, remember?).

I don’t know why darkness has to come.  I don’t know why I must wrestle with shame and guilt and sadness.  But I bet very strongly that I’m not the only one.  I can pretty much guarantee it.  And I don’t mind sharing because maybe one person will find comfort in knowing that she is not alone.  Girl (or boy), hear me out – you and God are gonna do this together.