During one of the last unseasonably warm autumn nights, Brian and I climbed over the deck railing onto our roof. We made our way to the top, stretching out with the peak as a pillow for our heads, legs lolling downward. Thin clouds wrapped around the edges of the sky like curtains pulling back, revealing the diamond-strewn swath of the Milky Way directly above us.
For a long time we just lay there, taking in the beauty and occasional shooting stars, listening to the quiet sounds of a moonless Northwoods night: an owl hooting as it searches for breakfast, a lone wolf howling in the distance, twigs and sticks snapping in the woods as the nighttime critters ventured about. Somewhere below us the boys were finally sleeping soundly in their beds.
It had been a pretty hard day. Again. And I lost my temper, I lost my sanity. I just…lost. And with each exhale I breathed my darkness out into the black of the night. And I inhaled the Light.
Out. In. Out. In.
Dark. Light. Dark. Light.
The entire human struggle playing out in a single breath under a luminous galaxy that He breathed into existence.
*
I found myself on the deck most nights this past summer, staring up at the sky, sneaking out as the rest of the house slumbered silently. I was searching for something—answers, divine connection, a vision bigger than my little world.
Our days were alive with the energy of summer: humid, hazy mornings spent wandering in the woods that gave way to cool nights swirling with lightning bugs and star-strewn skies. Our skin was sun-kissed and golden from swinging and swimming and climbing and chasing grasshoppers and butterflies. We flew kites and danced in clouds of bubbles and biked down dust-covered country roads.
And yet.
I spent most those same few months depressed and angry.
I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping summer really would be a break, a vacation, from the crazy life we live. And in so many shining moments, it was.
But summer was also full of hours-long meltdowns, family and friend relationship strife, heartbreaking test results, discouraging therapy evaluations, and so. many. sleepless. nights. as both boys had insomnia flare-ups. I felt isolated, maligned, misunderstood, and exhausted beyond measure.
And so most nights I found myself standing barefoot on the cool boards of the deck, head tilted back to stare up at the sky, my heart searching for a light for my path.
*
“If you are enveloped in darkness, with no light to see,” said the prophet Isaiah, “take confidence in the name of the Eternal One; rely on your God.”
“Ah, but if you’ve tried to go it alone,” he continues, “the light by which you go is your own consuming fire, and the torches you light will be your undoing.” (1)
At the time Isaiah proclaims this, Israel is supposed to be set apart from the other cultures of the day by their worship of the One True God. Yet while they go through the motions and pay lip service to Him, they are nearly indistinguishable from their neighbors. They fill their houses with foreign idols and participate in pagan practices—going as far as sacrificing their own children in the fires of Molech. Despite their hypocrisy, God continues to pursue them, calling them back to the Light:
“I have seen how they act,” He says, “but I will still bind them up and make them well again.” (2)
But they almost seem to revel in the darkness.
And it’s here I have been sitting as the heat of summer slowly faded to cool autumn breezes and finally to the subzero temps of winter.
Because I can tell you how I longed for a divine hand to reach down, miraculously solve all my problems, and banish the darkness in and around me once and for all.
But what I fail to tell you is that I was busy lighting my own torches. Like starting to drink too much. Like feeding my anger and sadness with too much sugar and lies that sounded like truth.
And friends, I was being consumed.
*
In this season, my darkness takes the form of wanting that nightly drink (or three) too much. At other times it’s been my utter failure to stop stuffing chocolate in my mouth. Sometimes it’s my mind-numbing addiction to whatever TV show I decide I’m into.
I know for others it can be food, porn, perfection, gossip, gaming, hunting, attention, praise, envy, shame, shopping, self-loathing. It can even be good things done for the wrong reasons, like taking care of others or even ministry.
We say trust the Lord, we go to church and sing the songs, but for a million different reasons we decide to take matters into our own hands. To shape our gods in our own image. To find our own way out of the dark.
But friends, we are consuming ourselves.
And the world around us applauds us as we do.
*
I took our dog, Scout, for a walk a couple of weeks ago as Brian put the boys down for bed. It was a balmy -15 degrees with a windchill twice as cold.
But my oh my. What a gorgeous night.
The moon loomed low and large above the bare treetops, glittering off the smooth snow. I had started another fast from alcohol a few days before, and the desire for a drink burned in my blood. So I took slow, deep breaths, letting the cold swirl around and in me. My spirit felt alive as I watched the foggy clouds of my breath float up to the thousands of stars twinkling in the icy sky.
Out. In. Out. In.
Dark. Light. Dark. Light.
Flesh. Spirit. Flesh. Spirit.
Under the frozen midwinter Milky Way, I was reminded of these words from the Gospel of Luke: “A new day is dawning: the Sunrise from the heavens will break through in our darkness, and those who huddle in night, those who sit in the shadow of death, will be able to rise and walk in the light, guided in the pathway of peace.” (3)
Our Hope is that He has seen how we act, and He still chooses—this Mighty Warrior and Champion of the Light—to rescue us. Day-in and day-out, He binds us up, makes us well again. And then celebrates with joyful songs over us. (4)
The truth, if we can accept it, is that we don’t have to light our own way. We don’t have to banish our own darkness.
We don’t have to be consumed.
But we do have to brave the cold night of our souls with empty hands and a gaze turned upward to see the Light that is already blazing.
***
1. Isaiah 50:10b–11
2. Isaiah 57:18
3. Luke 1:78b–79
4. Isaiah 57:18 and Zephaniah 3:17
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