Crawling Through the Valley

If we look intently enough, we can always find something for which to be thankful, even in the darkest of circumstances. Evil is not absolute; it is not the opposite of Good. It is the perversion of it. So even if all we can see is dark and fearsome, we are only seeing the negation of the good that is prior to the evil. Popular wisdom has it that in every cloud there is a silver lining. It’s not as simple as that. Sometimes, we must settle for what Ann Voskamp calls the “hard eucharistos,” the difficult blessings; those experiences that painful as they are, can be the very instrument in God’s hand for the work he wants to do in us.

One of the reasons these experiences are so hard is that without outside influence, we have to come to the realization in ourselves that the difficulty or tragedy we are experiencing is God’s gift, molding us into his image. If someone else tells me that my pain is for my own good, the only thing I want to do is to turn the tables, give them some pain, and tell them it’s a blessing in disguise. For me to tell someone that their suffering is God’s gift is to do them a serious injustice. Platitudes have only the power to rub salt in the wound when someone is already suffering. In such times, it is better to be silent than to try to explain God’s ways. Job’s comforters actually helped when they sat with him in silence. It was when they opened their mouths that they got into trouble.

One of the hard gifts of grace tonight is standing on the sidelines watching people I love going through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. For some, it is a literal death they are staring in the face; for others, it is a shadow of darkness that has enveloped what were once bright dreams of ministry, service, and promise. Hope gives way to despair as friends struggle just to keep their heads above the flood that threatens to overwhelm them. And for me, there are no words I can offer that will make it all right, no strings I can pull to change their circumstances. The Psalmist doesn’t say, “IF” I go through the valley of the shadow of death; he says, “THOUGH” I go through it. Go through it, we will, sooner or later. And that valley is fearsome, populated by the fierce and vicious beasts of doubt, terror, loneliness, and despair. It swallows many a soul. 

If there is anything for which I can be thankful tonight, it is that although I haven’t trodden every dark path, I have walked through my own valleys of death, and though badly shaken, I have emerged on the other side where the Son still shines. I only hope that my experiences can be an encouragement to others as I do my best to come alongside as a vessel of the Holy Spirit, to lift, strengthen, and simply walk beside my brothers and sisters, sharing their tears, and offering my prayers to the God of all comfort, even Jesus Christ.