There is a phrase for a time in our walk where God seems to disappear. They call it "The Dark Night of the Soul." The dark night of the soul refers to a dryness as simple as a spiritual discipline not returning the product it once did, or it may more seriously signal a sever altogether of the effectual presence of God.
In November of 2005 I had a miscarriage, and I wrote a few posts in regard to it. While gaining my senses I looked backward and remembered what I had said to God. I remembered that He was leading me. I chronicled my remembrances in two posts.
On November 23, 2005 I wrote in a blog entry:
Before the turn of the year 2005, I read a book I already recently quoted called "A Path Through Suffering" by Elizabeth Elliot. Not that any book should create in anyone a following and a devotion in likeness to scripture; however, at the end of her life, which was victoriously walked in intimacy to Christ, she simply has the wisdom to put the pieces together. Why should I not try and glean, to listen, to sit at her feet and absorb what she gained at a price??
This book was able to inspire me with an all-consuming love and trust for Christ. It was so inspiring that I was able to say to the Lord back then a year ago, "Lord, I am ready to go anywhere you want. No matter what that may look like. Would you let me suffer for Christ?"
And now everyone I imagine is thinking it is time to commit me to a mental facility. It sounds crazy. But you should have seen the love and peace I saw through the illumination of that path....
Then following day I wrote in a post what I prayed for my future:
And you will not believe what I happily prayed to God at some moment in it: "God, I am ready to sacrifice more. Anything you want, Lord, you can have it."
And that is when the trouble came. I suffered nothing more again in likeness to a miscarriage outwardly in my life, but inwardly all I could explain to others was that my God had "pulled the rug out from underneath me." This was a dark night of the soul in my life.
September 14, 2006
I have some bad news. I really honestly can't see my way out of this cyclic spin I'm in. It's too far out of my grasp to deliver myself. I am truly stuck. Does God ever decide to pull out the rug on someone? I know that sounds harsh. But, come to think of it, it feels harsh.
January 24, 2007
But I'm not interested in what I ought to be. All I can think about, is anything else. I rarely make myself behold a panoramic view of where I should be and where I have taken to. To do that feels like a knife twisting and turning inside. Still, I cannot believe myself. I haven't given up hope. I keep waiting for God to change me. I don't know how to help myself. I am beginning to wonder if someone else has to help me.
January 31, 2007
It's so bad that a couple nights ago I said to myself, "Can I just... not be a Christian anymore? Say that I don't believe in God?" It's only the people I love and the truth that is a message of hope which makes me try and fight and believe that maybe I too, can be redeemed.
February 5, 2007, on the eve of the birth of my third child
What had been is gone. Finally, I am able to look at babies, and remember why they are so delightful. Wow, it's like I've awaken. I don't know why I'm better. All I think is, thank you God, and please, please don't leave me now, old self. Stay.
March 30, 2007, the darkness didn't lift after having healed as a mother
I have to find a way to be a Christian. I don't know where to start, but, I know that's where I've decided to go. I think I've seen this before. I had to make a difficult choice. Still, I don't know how to reach around the pain to grasp faith. I don't have any ideas. I have complete lack of confidence that I will walk away from this post and be any better at closing the disconnect. At least at this juncture I'm open to the potential. I have to, and I am willing, to offer at least that small hope.
May 16, 2007, relating to Jesus' request to let this cup of suffering pass by Him
The account of Jesus in the garden before his arrest is a fulfillment of prophecy in Psalm 88:8....
"You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape."
Finally in October of 2007, maybe I was beginning to hear His voice on occasion, just a little bit. This was such a great post of release and conclusion. In full it said:
Can you hear the song tuning in clear, and pick up the melody and sing along with all your heart? I can hear it now and I don't hold back.
So? Life has troubles, and now it's becoming obvious that they don't stop... therefore what needs to change is me. If I don't learn to live right now then I won't ever be able to sing along with the song that someone is playing for Him. Life's always been lived in moments, present-tense; but because of my immaturity all I was was tense in the present.
I have been aware that I need to let go for some time and I still am at a loss, several experiments later, as to how to do that--how to focus the soul's passions toward the exterior--but even that I'm not going to worry about.
I suppose it is natural to forget where you are with God. How cool it is to rediscover, as it comes spilling out of your mouth, your origin-stories of trust in Him as you happen onto it in conversation.
I remember how I used to be long ago. Do you? So frequently the right word at the right time for the right need, I felt like I had one ear in heaven, and my joy, in everything I did, was so full in the promises of God. How I miss that easy-access to learning at his feet; somehow I had that privilege before and I know it was wonderful. I am looking for my old-self, I wanna go back to the way it was, yeah. I've been waiting for some time but there is "no normal" -- God's voice keeps to a warp and a muffle before it trickles down from the sky -- yet, I am at peace finally. When all other lights go out, the past illuminates that the straight and narrow is, as ever was, before me.
There is abundant joy backing me up from the rear and mist and fog in arm's reach ahead. Somebody ought best to twist me around and have me start walking backward.
Faith is not easy to put into practice. But I like grace, which is the present-tense capture of its essence. I like how simple it is. It deals with the difficulties of the moment until the moment is gone. And then it sings a song that floats on the evening breeze.
Walking forward while looking backward. This is the reason why I wrote this post. The LORD commanded us to "remember" Him by taking the sacraments. The Patriarchs of our faith built altars and pillars to remember and memorialize what the LORD had accomplished. To boast would be one thing. But when life gets a little dark, sometimes the only thing left to keep you steady is looking back over where you've already been.
I realize that the "Dark Night of the Soul" is mystical and some people think it flat-out nonsense. That's okay. To defend it scripturally I could site how the prophet Elijah had a great spiritual high followed by a depression. And Peter had passion for Jesus that led him to immaturely say "even if all others fall away, I won't." And I see Moses, as a young man being told who God was and that he belonged to God's people, but it wasn't till he was an old man that God personally gave him a testimony of it. I wrote a post recently asking if perhaps John the Baptist might have "lost his salvation" because in a dark prison he doubled-back and doubted who Jesus was.
LORD, I love you, and I know what you have done for me. I've been busy lately. But when I heard this song, I realized everything at once. You were always there. And I need to say it. You were always... there.
7 comments:
(I'd like to add what I read today.)
"You were there during history's darkest hour" the song sings.
Psalm 16:5-11
O LORD, you are the portion of my inheritance and my cup;
You maintain my lot.
The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;
Yes, I have a good inheritance.
I will bless the LORD who has given me counsel;
My heart also instructs me in the night seasons.
I have set the LORD always before me;
Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices;
My flesh also will rest in hope.
For You will not leave my soul in Sheol,
Nor will you allow Your Holy One to see corruption.
You will show me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
I cannot ascend near David's spirituality in this Psalm, he handles it much better than I could but at least I can see that there is such a thing as the "season of night," and that like my LORD I too as His disciple may experience a kind of death (Sheol) with God. Whether it lasts only two years or in Mother Teresa's case, where she specifically requested of God to "Only drink from Your chalice of pain" and had 40 years of silence from Him, this will not be the end of the story.
One day, and even now lately in my life, I can say like David that in the presence of the LORD there is fullness of joy! Praise the LORD for His wonderful presence!
I still esteem suffering, though it's no longer a romantic fascination I suppose. I don't think I could ever request again to suffer.... He must know that I know I can handle whatever kind of suffering so long as I had Him - but to not have Him is greatest suffering one could ever experience. I can't say I want that again for myself. If He wants to bring it again, I know now that it can be endured. Barely. And certainly all for His glory!
Michele,
I am very touched by your writing of those hours of darkness. I can relate, in my own experiences, to much of what you say. I don't know how much you know of my 'dark night,' but this just jumped off the screen:
"I was able to say to the Lord back then a year ago, "Lord, I am ready to go anywhere you want. No matter what that may look like. Would you let me suffer for Christ?""
I was unemployed for 17 months in 2002 and 2003. It was not a difficult time. It was great. I came to such a place of peace and trust in the the Lord, and I prayed the very prayer you did. Except for the suffering part. I didn't think it was necessary to ask for it. I already knew that suffering was part of serving as a disciple, and I was committed to that. In September I got a job, and I thought that a short chapter of my life was closed. But 60 days later, I found that it was a 15-year, a 20-year, a 40-year chapter that had closed, when our son was killed in an accident, and our daughter permanently injured.
Some of my deepst pain has been in doubting, and the horrific questions that come to me. As much as I have wanted to avoid it, my soul-searching has led me unwillingly to ask if it was an answer to my prayer, "Lord, I'll go wherever you send me, I'll do whatever you want." If I had known what was coming -- if I thought for a second that there could be a connection between what I was asking, and the tragedy that came, would I have prayed it? I want to say, No; how could others have to suffer so much on account of my prayer? It couldn't be.
But the question hangs in the air.
It's the same question I have when I read about Abraham taking Isaac up the mountain. Could I have done that? I don't see how, at least at first. Then I remember what it is that Abraham believed, Who it is that he believed: a God who raises the dead.
That's what brings me back around. A lot of those questions, the ones that cut like a knife, and I can't reason away, I have to leave hanging in the air.
Now everything points to that Day, when the dead in Christ shall rise. Now I try to live like I feel, like a man with one foot in eternity, waiting to be pulled the rest of the way through.
Steve,
That was a beautiful reply.
Hmm. I remember you making comments in class many times regarding Augustine's fatalism that ring current in your testimony too....
Is it not odd, I realize right now as I reply.... The doctor told me during the ultrasound that the baby had either died or was much younger than expected, and alive. For a week all I could do was wait and pray that perhaps the latter and not the former was true. That week should have been a victory of trust in God. But that whole Calvinism thing of appointed destiny, and how my prayers cannot affect God "the sovereign" made the prayers acquire a bitter flavor.
Anyway.
Those are "horrific" questions. Even in your case you seem to have a healthy mindset still, no parent wants to know this path. No parent, ever.
I remember your post on your son. I believe there is a difference. The longer the child is intimate with you, the greater the loss? Or so I thought I've observed in others.
When I think about my children it is hard to think of choosing God. But when I think about God I can imagine His immensity. That's what I think you are also saying.
Yeah. I get those questions. Thanks for sharing because it's a big deal.
For me there isn't very much in life I feel attached to. I don't care about appearing wealthy and I don't need or even want stuff. There is a small part of me that likes fashion but it is in a serious category of hobby or else worship. I've seen hungry days and I'm not discriminate. I've seen threats to my person and homelessness and isolation and plenty of failed relationships. My children are an exception - they make me care about my life and my stuff as counterbalance.
All this training has the 'one foot in heaven' as you say a little easier for me, in fact I'd like to maintenance things to stay that way; I prioritize spiritual fitness. I do appreciate sufficiency with Jesus, which is what made the darkness and silence wholly terrible. ...That makes sense doesn't it?
I get the impression that you also have seen a lot of other things in your life which make you care about spiritual fitness.
Michele
Michele,
It's true, that our understanding of life in Christ (and on earth) becomes simpler, not more complicated.
Over the years, my interest had become focused on spiritual growth, sanctification, at times becoming complicated in my view of how it "worked."
I believe now that a great part of maturity is not desiring the things of God, the blessings of Jesus, but desiring Jesus Himself. Ultimately it is Him who we are united to, because He has given Himself to us. He can take everything else away, but if we still have Him, we have everything. I try to walk in that truth, even - or especially - when I feel overcome by what I've lost.
Do I think I somehow brought disaster upon me and my family by praying a good prayer? No, not really. But it is the sort of thing that plagues you, when you try to make sense of something you're not privileged to make sense of.
I think instead that the prayer - yours and mine - is in fact the evidence that God had prepared us beforehand for what He knew was coming, and He was was giving us the grace to survive with our faith intact. He can do great things with people like that. I pray He will use us "to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." (2Cor. 1:4)
Steve,
Everything you said deserves an AMEN and is insightful. It is wonderful to know others have gone ahead so that those in it can experience comfort.
That last post I quoted from October 2007 was the beginning of a concentration to live present-tense with God. You said that it is the goal and you're right.
I wanna learn to accept whatever He wants to give. In this post from Tuesday was the first time in many months where I opened my eyes to look backward. I was afraid. I was scared that I might see His vacancy like I've seen before. It is assuring to see that He has been there in the last year or so. When I really needed Him, He was manifest.
It's still not like it was before. Before 2005, I can't explain how wonderful it was. I could hear His voice everywhere, and He was always pointing to Himself in worship and prayer and service and everything. I always had the Word on my tongue and in my heart and when I needed wisdom, there it arrived in abundance!!!! Life had meaning and I had great joy....
Most people think that my suffering was a miscarriage and that's fine, but really it was something more. It was because I knew exactly how good He had been in that that I asked to suffer again, see. I can't explain what the darkness was like either. All I can think about is Joseph in the dungeon, just emptiness. No confirmations, no resonating when I prayed or read the Word. Spiritually, all the disciplines felt dead and cold and alien. I mean, I was cut off like He wasn't real at all....
At the time I didn't think this silence was useful for anything in God's scheme. The last few days though I see what I have been learning. I learned that I was a hypocrite. I learned how difficult it is to know God for the lost and astray. And probably more will come to me now that I'm paying attention.
I'd like to know the Word of God in a deep Spiritual connection like I once did. But perhaps that isn't the goal. The goal isn't to be a superChristian. It's to submit ones-self to the will of God. To be empty of my own superiority and confidence so that I rely on God to act for me. Or I don't know how else to describe it at this time.
...It probably helped that my prayer has only been since September that I would be filled with the Spirit.
...Phew. Can I say phew but I can't say it with all the meaning it should have.
The last couple days have been sweet. I smile at Him and here and there I have glimpses of my former closeness. He comes near for a little bit and I am so filled with His goodness. It makes me wanna look back on those two years and say - "WHY?" And though I know the logical answer to that question it's the inward difference of it all that makes the question come out of my mouth anyway.
Maybe that's what Jesus was doing when He hung on the cross and asked the Father "Why have you forsaken me?" Not that He could not understand, but that experiencing it makes you ask.
I am seriously shaken enough that I don't think I'll request suffering again. I don't have so much esteem in myself anymore. Instead I will go wherever He leads and that receive whatever He wants to give. That is certainly enough challenge for the day.
:D
What an honest and emotional post, Sanc.
I can relate, I won't go into details, this is your post, but I can see myself in the past in your writings.
This blog site is breath of fresh air when I get a chance to catch up and read.
Thanks
Kris
Kris,
Thanks for saying this. I wondered if other people have gone through similar things. It seems likely. Sorry if I seem to visit your blog in a scattered pattern. I don't mean to do that.
Michele
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