The Spirit in Our Souls

Complete darkness is scary. Once, before beginning a performance, I stood backstage in a totally black space. I became disoriented about where my entrance was located, which made me tremble. In silence, I had to reach out till I could touch someone.

When no light exists in our lives, we are lost, as I was in those backstage moments. Similarly, people without Jesus live in darkness. All the time.

Life can be dark for each of us at times, living in this fallen world. We need light to thrive, and tragedy or loss can seem overwhelming.

Light is also our source of color. If you ever see a rainbow inside your house, you see the evidence. A window or a prism catches sunlight and reveals the entire spectrum of color. Fascinating. We can see brilliant colors when the beauty and power of the light surprise us.

When God created the sun, the moon, and the stars, He spoke, and His words made it happen (John 1:4-5). Good sounds so small a word for the results. He took an absolute void and created a power that supplies all of life. From the sun that shines upon us to the visible spark at the moment of conception, God is the source of light. It is His power behind all created things. But the inverse is nothing without light.

From Genesis to Revelation, light presents the overarching theme of God’s Word. When the will of humans caused their world to be darkened by disobedience, God stepped in so many times to give us a chance to be redeemed. Noah, Abraham, Moses, Solomon, David, and prophet after prophet led attempts to return the people to God. Then, when the time was right, Jesus came. He was called the Light of all people.

When we read God’s Word, the precious gift of light and rainbow promises brings us into His presence. When life looks dark, ask Christ to make you a prism. When you ask with a pure heart, the darkness cannot overcome the light. Then you can clearly see the pathway to shine His light for others. Let there be light.

Shock tore through my body when I heard my mom’s voice on the phone, “If you want to see your dad alive, you need to come right now.” Thirty-six hours later, Dad passed from this life to his eternal home in heaven. Knowing that didn’t erase my pain. A cloud of grief settled over me. Sorrow choked my breath and threatened to crush me beneath its weight. Darkness became my constant unwelcome companion for many months. I needed the mighty weapon of truth.

David, the psalmist, was familiar with darkness (Psalm 139:11-12). He remembered moments when the darkness threatened to overwhelm and destroy him. He remembered facing circumstances so bleak that he felt as if the darkness would cover him.

Perhaps we’ve all felt what it’s like to be in the black hole of depression, where all we want is to hide from the world. What about the suffering of unspeakable loss or pain? The distress is bleak and full of fear, with no end in sight.

On such occasions, the light of God’s truth seems eclipsed by the darkness. But David provides hope. He reflects on how he overcame the feeling that the darkness would destroy him. He battled his feelings, and his weapon was the truth.

David moved from his burst of emotion to recalling the truth that darkness is as light to God. God knew, God saw, and God was with him in the darkness. God’s omniscience and omnipresence brought comfort.

When the darkness threatens to crush us, the truth of God’s Word is our mighty weapon. God knows all about the darkness we face. He sees clearly in our darkness and is present with us in our darkest moments. We feel alone and perhaps abandoned, but the truth is that God is there with us.

Darkness can be a catalyst to draw you closer to the Lord. It can push you down onto your knees in prayer. It can make you feel desperate for His Word and leave you longing for more of Him.

When you battle your feelings amid the darkness, remember God’s truths so those feelings don’t overwhelm you.

For me, being a child of the light means that no matter how dark or pressing the situation may appear, God’s light still shines through. It is such a comforting reminder when things feel so dark. Yet it is also a reminder that I am supposed to live and think differently. That even as frightening as it might feel, we don’t have to remain in the darkness because we have a light that shines through it.

One day, I listened to a sermon, and the pastor said, “The kingdom of God is driving out the kingdom of darkness. We don’t have to walk in darkness, and we get to live for Jesus. The Enemy is working overtime, hoping we will believe his lies. We were made for so much more than living for ourselves.”

There is hope when we understand our God-given rights as children of the Most High (John 12:35). It can cause us to stand up, to be that light that God intends, and to go into the darkness knowing it will not overcome us.

God can help us not to be overcome by our circumstances. We choose to be that light that God has called us to be. Then we can live out our purpose, knowing that God has called and equipped us for our missions.

Ask God for the power be a child of the light. 

What am I going to do without my mom? What am I going to do? 

These thoughts swirled around in my mind as I guided my car along a blackened 405 freeway. I was on my way to Lancaster, California—driving, asking, and praying. I needed a present help.

Earlier that evening, after coming home from work, I had received a call from my younger sister that emergency personnel were rendering aid to my mother. Her trembling voice unveiled her growing fear as she kept me abreast of the situation. As her words darted back and forth, my heart rose and sank like a tide. The Lord can bring her through this. He has done it before. In the end, I was grateful for all the effort put into saving her. However, my bobbing hopes finally sank. My mother died.

Everything changed that night, but Jesus was always with me. While my hands desperately clenched the steering wheel on that uphill drive, I felt an overwhelming presence of warmth. Immediately, I sensed that Jesus covered me with a blanket of love and compassion. His comfort lessened the pain of grief and shock. It was as if He said, “I know, and I am here.” In hindsight, only my all-knowing Savior could understand such a significant loss.

In the following days, weeks, and months, the Lord continued to comfort me directly and through others. Jesus soothed me with a peace that lulled me to sleep and then carried me through my days. He led me to Scriptures that reminded me of His faithfulness and love. The care and concern from church members and family friends touched me. The cards, messages, and phone calls lifted me.

In our times of questioning, we don’t have the answers that our hearts long for (Ephesians 3:20). We want to make sense of things. The truth is that we don’t have the capacity to figure it all out. We fail when relying on our own reasoning. Jesus provides strength “exceedingly abundantly above” and holds us up in ways we can’t even begin to think of or imagine. He does this with His power and Spirit. He knows all things and prescribes care specifically for each of us.

Whatever you may be facing, take comfort in knowing that the ultimate Comforter can strengthen you. He can do the impossible.

The highlight reel was playing in my mind. Credits would soon roll on my daughter’s elementary school years, and I was reliving sweet memories. First steps. Birthday parties. Toothless grins. But the lump in my throat dropped to a sick feeling in my stomach as a preview of the next chapter flashed in my head: middle school.

Soon, my little girl would walk hallways full of hormones and souls searching for purpose. How could I silence the voices that would confuse her identity in Christ? Then I noticed something in an old photo of my daughter and me. It wasn’t our hands linking together as we walked into her first day of preschool or her perfect pigtails. It was the fact that I was guiding my child into uncharted territory with the tag on my dress sticking up.

Through Isaiah, God tells His people not to fear. He had redeemed them, and they belonged to Him (Isaiah 43:1). As Christians, our identity is as clear as the tag on my outfit. The message in that picture was just as much for me as it was for my daughter: Keep your tag up.

Society screams that success defines us. But as followers of Christ, we shouldn’t set our hearts on what we do but on what Christ has done for us. Our tag comes with specific washing instructions. The Redeemer has cleansed us.  

Earthly wisdom points to maintaining a specific image. But God created us in His image. Our tag bears the name of the same Divine Designer who filled the oceans and molded the mountains.  

No one can forecast the falsehoods we’ll face any more than I could predict what my daughter might encounter in junior high. But I understand the struggle. I’m often so busy listening to the voices that tell me to make a name for myself that I can’t hear the one who’s calling my name.

Join me in carving out quiet time to listen to the one who knows and loves us intimately. You are God’s child, and that is enough. Stand strong in who and whose you are. And next time someone tells you your tag is up, smile and say, “I know.”