I had an hour to spare today, and I decided to spend it wandering around the bookstore. I tend to gravitate toward the display tables because they contain either sale books or the "best of the best" books--new paperbacks, staff picks, etc. In the process of picking up books and reading the first few pages of each, I stumbled upon a book that caught my attention for a whole chapter (I'm a picky book-browser). I can't remember the name of the book... something about being angry with God. It caught my eye because the author billed herself as snarky, which is among my favorite words. The premise of the book turned out to be a little hokey, in my opinion. The author went through a rough patch, got angry with God, and decided that she and God needed to go to couple's counseling. She actually found a therapist who was willing to conduct these, um, counseling sessions. That's where I stopped reading. But she touched on something that was very familiar to me, and I'm sure to many Christians--the rough patch.
This author referred to the rough patch as the Dark Hour of the Soul. I thought this was a perfect name for the low places Christians sometimes find themselves in. I've been there. (It was last year and it lasted for quite a long time.) The author's response to the Dark Hour was anger. She blamed God for her hard times (I don't know what she went through that was so hard; I didn't read that far), and she started imagining that he was the "bad guy," that he was angry with her as well. My reaction to my Dark Hour wasn't anger. I think I felt despair. I felt myself pulling away from God. I worried, I stressed, I doubted God. There was a lot of doubt. I didn't pray, at least, not sincerely, and I didn't turn to the Bible for answers. It's hard to think back to how I felt during that dark time because as I'm writing this I'm in a place of contentment. "It is well with my soul," as the hymn goes.
The Dark Hour of the Soul... it sounds like a Harry Potter book. My point in bringing this up, and I think the point that author was trying to make, is that sometimes it's the dark times in our life that bring us closer to God. I may have read something about this in The Irresistible Revolution last week; I feel like this topic has been on my mind for a while, and it's probably because I've read about it in a few places lately. I keep a sticky note on my computer that says the following verses:
"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing." -James 1:2-4
This passage spoke to me first of all because I need all the help I can get when it comes to producing patience. But it also serves as a reminder that the trials we are given are being overseen by God. Everything may not happen for a reason, but God has a hand in what is going on, and he will put our faith to the test if that's what it takes to wake us up.
I am thankful that I am out of my Dark Hour. And I can see how that time, those months of feeling worried and alone and so doubtful, has really made me appreciate being in the light. I feel now like I am in an hour of clarity (well... semi-clarity) and closeness with God. I can see Him working in my life; I can see Him in those around me, working in their lives. I can see how He gives us to each other, Christian friends to serve as our support and our family, to share in each others' joy and pain. I can tell within myself that He has strengthened my soul. What I struggle with is the fact that, when compared to the dark hours of other Christians, my dark hour wasn't all that dark. The author of that book kept saying that she was a middle-class white girl with middle-class white girl problems. In the grand scheme of things, her issues probably weren't earth-shattering. But they were her problems, she kept saying, so they meant something to her. I have friends, other middle-class white girl friends, who have had much darker hours than me. I cannot begin to imagine the pain and loss and loneliness and anger they have dealt with. And then there are countless others, people whose paths don't cross with mine, whose hours are still darker. How can these people rejoice? How can they be thankful for the pain they have experienced? I don't have an answer for this. I just know that my Dark Hour is over, and I can look back and see what I learned, and I am thankful for that time because it helped me grow. And I pray for strength and comfort for those who are in their Dark Hour now, and clarity for those who have yet to learn how their dark times are leading them to God.
On another note, I have been fixated lately on the idea of nourishing my soul. It first came up in a sermon last month, when our new minister emphasized the importance of setting aside time each day to nourish our souls. I am the product of a society where we nourish our bodies. I love to treat my muscles to Pilates every week. I nourish my feet with pedicures. I nourish my sweet tooth with mint chocolate chip ice cream... of course, that's only at the end of a long day filled with healthy, nourishing foods. I nourish my brain with books, crossword puzzles, conversations, professional development. I spend the majority of my time strengthening the part of me that I can't take to heaven. And my poor soul is crying out for some TLC. My Lenten observation this year involves taking time every day to be with God. It sounded easy when I committed to it--easier than, say, giving up chocolate-- but it's a few weeks into Lent now, and feeding my soul is harder than I thought it would be! My devotional time often gets pushed to the end of the day. I constantly find that I can't slow my mind down enough to focus on my prayers. I desire to be in the presence of God, yet I'm not allowing myself to be still and acknowledge His presence. I rejoice that my Dark Hour of the Soul is in the past. But I am learning that even the joyful, contented times have their own struggles. This week I am re-committing to Lent. I am going to try harder than ever to be intentional about how I spend my time. In the spirit of rejoicing during times of trial, I am sure that these bumps in the road are a blessing. Perhaps my struggles are keeping me on my toes, keeping me actively involved in seeking God and seeking his help as I nourish my soul. My prayer this week is that God will breathe new life into my commitment to spend time in His presence, and that he will do the same for my friends who are experiencing a mid-Lent slump like I am.
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