Many of us are afraid of the dark when we are very young.  Some us continue to fear the dark, even as adults.

There is darkness and then there is darkness.  When the sun goes down, I am not much concerned about the darkness — in most places.  That’s because I am usually in a place where light is somewhere nearby.  I can usually see well enough in the dark to at least walk without stumbling into a hole or something.

But I have been in places where the darkness is much more complete.  I spent some time in Mexico In Old Mexico there are many places where the darkness is not interrupted by man-made light.  I remember trying to get around at night without light, or sometimes with a small flashlight that was being shared by several of us.  Things can get tricky.

I am not afraid of ghosts or any of the silly things people in the United States seem to want to believe in these days.  Vampires and werewolves and witches (you know, the evil kind) and wizardry and ghouls, etc., and so on, all bore me to weeping yawns.  I enjoyed being terrorized by all these things when I was a boy.  It was great fun.  But when we grow up there are some things that simply get left behind.

Yet there is a darkness that does bother me, from time to time.  It is the kind that creeps into the bottom of one’s soul when depression or deep discouragement settles in.  The black mood of lost desire, lost hope, lost will.  Such darkness is able to take hold of a human heart in the middle of the brightest day, even in a room filled with friends and loved ones.

Physical illness is sometimes the cause.  Exhaustion is another factor.  Perceptions, real or imagined, can also play a part.  Whatever the cause, this kind of darkness is the most dangerous, at least potentially.  So many people suffer from bouts of such darkness these days that prescriptions and counselors abound.

It is a kind of cold pain that grips the soul.  If the darkness is able to take full hold, all hope drains away like so much water through a sieve.  Dreams are spilled onto the ground and mixed with the dirt to make heavy mud.  The feet then become entangled, weighted down, and all sense of direction fades into thin air.  Lost and unable to see our way, we may soon stumble and fall.

Hardly anything seems to matter in such a state.  Bad choices may be made.  We must be careful. Our own grip on reality and on the work before us often slips, and we may lose our momentum entirely if the darkness is able to linger on.

In such times, we need the light of good hope, the crystal clear purpose that only God Himself can give us.  We need Jesus.  We need the warming fires of God’s precious Holy Spirit.

David (King David of old Israel) once wrote a poem to God about this very thing.  In that poem or psalm is this passage:

I bless the LORD who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me.
I keep the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices; my body also rests secure.
For you do not give me up to Sheol, or let your faithful one see the Pit.
You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.    (Psalm 16:7-11, NRSV)

May the Lord Himself be a light to you this day, and this night.  May you and all those for whom you pray find comfort and joy in His good Presence.   Amen.

Jim