You are good to me…
You’re never gonna let, You’re never gonna let,
You’re never gonna let, You’re never gonna let,
You’re never going to let me down…
Today I sang those words at church ... well, those are the words on the screen that I was supposed to be singing, but they caught in my throat and I couldn’t quite get them to pass my lips. They blocked, and choked, and stuck there with a burning fire that spread and seeped from the depths of my chest to the corners of my eyes, trickling down my cheeks, sliding silently under my chin.
Today I sang those words at church ... well, those are the words on the screen that I was supposed to be singing, but they caught in my throat and I couldn’t quite get them to pass my lips. They blocked, and choked, and stuck there with a burning fire that spread and seeped from the depths of my chest to the corners of my eyes, trickling down my cheeks, sliding silently under my chin.
My soul again filled with that aching and hurting and leaking out from within.
I didn’t feel like singing God’s great praises of goodness today, I couldn’t make the words leave my mouth. I didn’t see the goodness. I didn’t feel His goodness. Or perhaps I just didn’t want to see or feel it. I know He’s there, I know He’s holding my hand and “blessing” my footsteps… But it’s just so hard to lift my eyes and my voice to praise His greatness when I’m finding myself back on the back steps of my inner darkness.
It’s so hard, and takes so much work to look for, search for, reach for any kind of light, any kind of goodness, any kind of praise when I’m sitting in the dark. And I’ve sat here over and over and over throughout the last forty three years of my life, and damnit … I don’t want to be here again. I don’t. The concrete beneath me is so hard, so cold, so damp, the darkness so dark I almost can’t see my hand held in font of my face right now.
I don’t even know how I ended up back down here, or if it’s even as bad as I’m feeling it might be right now… But I do know I’m suddenly hit again with a quick return of another unexpected dark night season. I know I don’t want to be here, and I know I don’t want to have to dive back in and do the hard work to dig myself back out, yet again.
Oh it’s hard. So so so hard to get back out from under here. Patience, courage, vulnerability, pain, time…
Yes, I know this is merely another passing of yet another season in my life. I know this too shall pass, I know this is the ebb and flow of my life, and my feelings, and my passions, and my fears, and my desires, and my hopes and dreams.
I’m actually not surprised by its return this time, I am however saddened and deeply worn down, so worn down.
I thought I was doing better. I honestly thought I was, and perhaps I was. Yes, there was a season of light, and warmth, and praise, and sunshine on my face after a long climb up that dark and rickety ladder shrouded with darkness and despair. That wasn’t a mirage, that wasn’t a lie, that wasn’t a dream or fabrication in my mind.
I was happy and filled with renewed hope and promise and joy-filled praise.
Two years ago I sat in a similar place as to where I am now. No, two years ago I was further down, much further down, than where I am right now, but this returned darkness immediately brings me back to those days, that season, that heaviness within.
Two years ago I was in the beginning phases of the clawing, and dragging, and scrapping myself along as I slowly worked on trying to figure out how to pull myself back up, back out, back to the light that I’d lost sight of over the previous two years.
I’d been sick. I’d delivered and buried and stillborn daughter, at the age of forty, after nearly two decades of infertility, and I never thought I would recover. I never thought I’d forgive God, I never thought I would praise Him, worship Him, love Him again.
For most of us the dark night appears through crisis, through loss, through hardship, through great and deep burdens laid heavily upon us… that which is given to us but never asked for.
I know God is with us in our suffering, in my heart deep within of course I know this truth. But the why’s and the waiting... oh the why’s and the waiting. How long oh Lord? The obedience, the patience, the vulnerability, the trust we must put forth, create, seek out, hang on to. I know He’s working His promises for me and I know I’m merely living out His grand plan for my life. But why … why does it have to be so hard Lord?!?
I know He will never waste my pain, my tears, my darkness. But again I just can’t help but cry out Oh how long oh Lord?!? I don’t want to be back in this darkness. I don’t want to wait again for the light to start to filter back in to my soul. I don’t want to have to surrender my everything, again. I just don’t want to. I want the control, the answers, the timeline all filled in with neat black and white concise happy entries.
I’m not sure if the fact that I can’t run a sub 2 half marathon, the dreaded “holidays” are again nearly upon us, I can’t keep the extra pounds from showing up every morning on the scale, and I can’t ward off, block off, keep away the inner lies and deceit is the reason for, or the consequence of, but my inner self doubt is again loud and it is again whispering loudly in my ear that I am “not enough.”
Oh I know better than to think and believe all these things, these lies, these false insecurities swirling within me. I know God is holding my hand and there right beside me, even when I don’t see Him, don’t feel Him, don’t want to know Him. I know He’s listening, and loving, and longing for me even when He is silent. I know even through I feel alone and abandoned and unseen, He sees and He hears and He has not left me alone to die in the wilderness.
I look out the window and watch the last remaining leaves whither and fall from the trees. I wonder if the trees feel a relief in their release, as if that extra weight and burden has again left, again given reprieve to it’s branches and roots as another season passes into the next. Or do the trees feel the sadness, and the heartache, of this dying and death and loss of all their color and beauty and vibrancy, that just days ago was catching the glorious rays of the sunshine and basking them with a golden beauty and radiance for the world to see.
Perhaps it’s a mix of both… both a relief and heartache. A juxtaposition of all that has come to be and all that is perfect and good… with all that has come to an end, all that his shriveled and slipped away silently in the wind.
The seasons continue to come and go, there is no option, no pause button, no changing of this reality. The seasons outside as well as the seasons within us are continually caught up in this whirlwind of days and nights, darkness and light, hot and cold. We must learn to somehow weather the storms, embrace the changing of seasons, and trust that the steps before us will in fact someday be the path behind us that has paved the way for an over all beautiful journey.
Today I may not feel like praising, may not be able to sing of God’s goodness, may not be able to see the light that has mysteriously disappeared and slipped away from my heart yet again for the moment.
Today I again feel the weight of the world and the deep heavy burden of sorrow and unfairness surrounding me. Today I know I’m again being pruned, and trimmed, and cut, and in need to pursue, and process, and trust the days which lie before me. As I've come to learn from going through this over and over in the past, that I need to simply try embrace this season and not try run, and hide, and numb in hopes of avoiding it.
I didn’t feel like singing God’s great praises of goodness today, I couldn’t make the words leave my mouth. I didn’t see the goodness. I didn’t feel His goodness. Or perhaps I just didn’t want to see or feel it. I know He’s there, I know He’s holding my hand and “blessing” my footsteps… But it’s just so hard to lift my eyes and my voice to praise His greatness when I’m finding myself back on the back steps of my inner darkness.
It’s so hard, and takes so much work to look for, search for, reach for any kind of light, any kind of goodness, any kind of praise when I’m sitting in the dark. And I’ve sat here over and over and over throughout the last forty three years of my life, and damnit … I don’t want to be here again. I don’t. The concrete beneath me is so hard, so cold, so damp, the darkness so dark I almost can’t see my hand held in font of my face right now.
I don’t even know how I ended up back down here, or if it’s even as bad as I’m feeling it might be right now… But I do know I’m suddenly hit again with a quick return of another unexpected dark night season. I know I don’t want to be here, and I know I don’t want to have to dive back in and do the hard work to dig myself back out, yet again.
Oh it’s hard. So so so hard to get back out from under here. Patience, courage, vulnerability, pain, time…
Yes, I know this is merely another passing of yet another season in my life. I know this too shall pass, I know this is the ebb and flow of my life, and my feelings, and my passions, and my fears, and my desires, and my hopes and dreams.
I’m actually not surprised by its return this time, I am however saddened and deeply worn down, so worn down.
I thought I was doing better. I honestly thought I was, and perhaps I was. Yes, there was a season of light, and warmth, and praise, and sunshine on my face after a long climb up that dark and rickety ladder shrouded with darkness and despair. That wasn’t a mirage, that wasn’t a lie, that wasn’t a dream or fabrication in my mind.
I was happy and filled with renewed hope and promise and joy-filled praise.
Two years ago I sat in a similar place as to where I am now. No, two years ago I was further down, much further down, than where I am right now, but this returned darkness immediately brings me back to those days, that season, that heaviness within.
Two years ago I was in the beginning phases of the clawing, and dragging, and scrapping myself along as I slowly worked on trying to figure out how to pull myself back up, back out, back to the light that I’d lost sight of over the previous two years.
I’d been sick. I’d delivered and buried and stillborn daughter, at the age of forty, after nearly two decades of infertility, and I never thought I would recover. I never thought I’d forgive God, I never thought I would praise Him, worship Him, love Him again.
For most of us the dark night appears through crisis, through loss, through hardship, through great and deep burdens laid heavily upon us… that which is given to us but never asked for.
I know God is with us in our suffering, in my heart deep within of course I know this truth. But the why’s and the waiting... oh the why’s and the waiting. How long oh Lord? The obedience, the patience, the vulnerability, the trust we must put forth, create, seek out, hang on to. I know He’s working His promises for me and I know I’m merely living out His grand plan for my life. But why … why does it have to be so hard Lord?!?
I know He will never waste my pain, my tears, my darkness. But again I just can’t help but cry out Oh how long oh Lord?!? I don’t want to be back in this darkness. I don’t want to wait again for the light to start to filter back in to my soul. I don’t want to have to surrender my everything, again. I just don’t want to. I want the control, the answers, the timeline all filled in with neat black and white concise happy entries.
I’m not sure if the fact that I can’t run a sub 2 half marathon, the dreaded “holidays” are again nearly upon us, I can’t keep the extra pounds from showing up every morning on the scale, and I can’t ward off, block off, keep away the inner lies and deceit is the reason for, or the consequence of, but my inner self doubt is again loud and it is again whispering loudly in my ear that I am “not enough.”
Oh I know better than to think and believe all these things, these lies, these false insecurities swirling within me. I know God is holding my hand and there right beside me, even when I don’t see Him, don’t feel Him, don’t want to know Him. I know He’s listening, and loving, and longing for me even when He is silent. I know even through I feel alone and abandoned and unseen, He sees and He hears and He has not left me alone to die in the wilderness.
I look out the window and watch the last remaining leaves whither and fall from the trees. I wonder if the trees feel a relief in their release, as if that extra weight and burden has again left, again given reprieve to it’s branches and roots as another season passes into the next. Or do the trees feel the sadness, and the heartache, of this dying and death and loss of all their color and beauty and vibrancy, that just days ago was catching the glorious rays of the sunshine and basking them with a golden beauty and radiance for the world to see.
Perhaps it’s a mix of both… both a relief and heartache. A juxtaposition of all that has come to be and all that is perfect and good… with all that has come to an end, all that his shriveled and slipped away silently in the wind.
The seasons continue to come and go, there is no option, no pause button, no changing of this reality. The seasons outside as well as the seasons within us are continually caught up in this whirlwind of days and nights, darkness and light, hot and cold. We must learn to somehow weather the storms, embrace the changing of seasons, and trust that the steps before us will in fact someday be the path behind us that has paved the way for an over all beautiful journey.
Today I may not feel like praising, may not be able to sing of God’s goodness, may not be able to see the light that has mysteriously disappeared and slipped away from my heart yet again for the moment.
Today I again feel the weight of the world and the deep heavy burden of sorrow and unfairness surrounding me. Today I know I’m again being pruned, and trimmed, and cut, and in need to pursue, and process, and trust the days which lie before me. As I've come to learn from going through this over and over in the past, that I need to simply try embrace this season and not try run, and hide, and numb in hopes of avoiding it.
Avoiding will not make it go away. Avoiding will not make it better. Avoiding will not magically fix all the woes and wrongs.
I am again standing at the wall, again finding myself needing to find the feet of Jesus and fall upon them with my tears, and my burdens, and my insecurities. I am again needing to fight for the light, search for the cracks in my soul that will let the most light in. I am again needing to do the hard work of healing, minding, mending the hurts and disappointments and fears warring within me.
I must continue on with the song, even when the words are hard, as their message is still true, and someday the dark night holding on to me will again have it’s daybreak into a new dawn.
You are good. You are good.
I am again standing at the wall, again finding myself needing to find the feet of Jesus and fall upon them with my tears, and my burdens, and my insecurities. I am again needing to fight for the light, search for the cracks in my soul that will let the most light in. I am again needing to do the hard work of healing, minding, mending the hurts and disappointments and fears warring within me.
I must continue on with the song, even when the words are hard, as their message is still true, and someday the dark night holding on to me will again have it’s daybreak into a new dawn.
You are good. You are good.
You are good to me…
You’re never gonna let, You’re never gonna let, You’re never going to let me down…
You’re never gonna let, You’re never gonna let, You’re never going to let me down…
When the night is holding onto me, God is holding on…
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