#6 When Darkness Falls

I’m going to be painfully transparent on this one: I just had a day that flat-out sucked. I started off on a good note, working hard and getting things done. I won’t get into the specifics, but I’ll say this: workplace drama kicked off, and it threw me into the fast lane towards a downward spiral. I held back the floodgates of anger, desperately trying to resist the ever-growing temptation to cause a scene as I sped into the fiery pit of my rage. As I battled myself for control of myself, I started praying. “God, I’m over here writing about staying positive as I sit here sinking in quicksand. What are you trying to teach me?” I tossed this question around for a while, and I think I have settled on a conclusion. 

I believe the takeaway from this eventful day is this: a well-lit night is still night. Have you noticed how all of our technological advances have been ways to cope with the way things are? We can’t turn winter into summer, nor night into day-we just make those inconvenient times a little more bearable. We are still wrestlers against the raging sea, competitors in mother nature’s olympics. The point is: we aren’t masters of the universe. Sometimes, storms will still blow our way. If we are lucky, we can retreat into a safe place for a bit, but we can’t always change what is going on around us, or even inside us. Sometimes, all we can do is press desperately against walls of the floodgates, praying desperately for all the hell to be held back until it subsides.

Sometimes we get angry and that’s alright. It happens to all of us. Sometimes we even blow it. I know I did today. I tossed out a few passive-aggressive comments, knowing full-well that I shouldn’t have. I started slipping and I knew it. I’m embarrassed. “I thought I was better than this!” I thought to myself. But then it hit me: you can’t eradicate darkness. You can’t heat up a cold winter’s day. You just have to make the most of it, and pray over the rest. 

Some days will still be frustrating. You might get to the point that you are one bad moment away from letting someone have it. You might sit in that dark place for a few weeks, clinging to that last spark of goodness that pleads with you not to do something stupid. You might remain depressed for a time, sad for even longer. And though you know that things will get better, it will feel like you’re always failing to make any progress. It’ll never feel like you’re able to speed up the clock on your night. Sometimes it feels like darkness will stay till it feels like leaving. And it never leaves soon enough. 

But you know what’s scary? The darkness within us is actually quite tasty. I’m not saying it’s good, and that we should all give in to those things, but there’s a reason bad things stick around. The anger that feels so good to satisfy, hopelessness covers you like a blanket, fear can be easier to give into than resist. These things stick around because they’re the easy route. In a way, they almost feel freeing. We let go of the struggle and surrender the battle. We think to ourselves “if I just waved the white banner, it would all be over.” Maybe this is something similar to what the Israelites felt in the desert: if I could only go back into slavery, I would be free of this blistering heat!I know it’s a little unnerving to talk about bad things like this, but can you say that I’m wrong? 

But what do we do with such a predicament? How do we react when darkness falls and we start to find ourselves wanting to give in? First of all, we need to stop expecting the night to become day. God made the night too, so you may as well accept that it’s dark and ask yourself how you can grow from it. This means you should cut yourself some slack. That bad day might not turn into a happy one. You might finish the day wiped out, perhaps even a little unsettled because you expected more of yourself. That’s ok. It’s completely normal to want the night to be over. And one day it will be. But for now, it is dark, and you can’t change that. 

I think when it’s dark, we need to focus on the one thing we can do: hold back the floodgates. We must resist the desire to give into darkness and let it take over us. We should bite our tongues on the snide comment we’re itching to throw and resist the urge to give up. We need to keep from being hopeless, from believing that all is truly lost. Sometimes you need to shift your focus from trying to turn things around, to simply not making them worse. Believe me, I get it: it’s hard. Oh, is it hard! When it feels like every fiber of your being wants to give up, to give in. When the walls of the keep are about to fall, unleashing forces itching destroy all the good that’s left. The best thing you can do in these times is focus all your forces on the gates, and hold them fast until the morning light. 

The ways that I have been mentioning to lighten up, they’re fortification for your castle walls. They take the edge off of your dark times so you can tighten your grip on the gates of self-control. They may or may not pivot your circumstances, but they will most certainly help you tighten your grip on positivity. They’re like the shirt that helps you grip the pickle jar that’s too tight (because we all agree, it’s the slippery surface that’s the problem. Not your grip or anything else.) So tap out a beat, find your silly word, and hold on for dear life to what light remains. 

Then, before you know it, morning will come. And when the sun rises, slapping the earth with those first rays of glorious light, you will rejoice. You’ll be able to hold your head high, proud of the fact that you didn’t blow it. You stood strong and didn’t make a disaster of the bloodthirsty tidal wave that approached your gates. You’ll be filled with pride as the conqueror, hailed throughout the city as you claim your victory. Don’t let evil have its day. Hold back the floodgates of disaster, and I guarantee you will never regret it. 

If you are like me, and are in the middle of a dark night of life, I’m here with you. I pray you hold fast to those floodgates, that God keeps them secure til the morning light breaks. I pray you cling to the hope that morning will come, as it always does. I pray you are given the strength to endure bravely and gracefully as you do what’s right. 

Until next time

May Peace be your guide.