Room Darkening

Something magical happened in the midst of this year’s Lenten season. I gained roughly four hours of daylight.

Nowadays, I am jumping for joy that the sun actually wakes me up, but the extra daylight causes a ruckus at the end of the day. My kiddo loves looking out his bedroom window, so much as to completely fray the string that opens and closes the blinds. The pulley mechanism has completely failed, and the blinds have been stuck in an open position. While this served us well in the dark evenings of winter. Our new reality is that the light coming through the window at bedtime makes my son believe one thing, it’s not bedtime.

Here in the great state of Michigan, we will go from nine hours of daylight at winter’s end, to fifteen hours of daylight when summer hits. Right now, we are reaping the benefit of the extra boost of sunshine, well let’s face it daylight without sun. More like, hello cloudy days - Lenten days - surrendering days - path to resurrection days.

Forty days of fasting as a means to surrender to God’s prompting in my life, felt just like that, a mix of light and dark. A mix of freedom and discomfort. Peace and awkward stillness. Getting stuck in making decisions. I don’t like stillness. I don’t like being quiet in my thought space nor bored. Like at Walt Disney World, I want to buy my way through waiting in the long lines.

There is a section of the Bible written by the prophet Jeremiah that expresses his pure sadness for the fallen city of Jerusalem.

I am guessing this Easter, you may be feeling an immense amount of agony.

Has the loved one you’ve adored been called home to be with Jesus?
Has the pain that keeps you up at night only progressively gotten worse?
Can anything good prevail after the loss you’ve experienced?
Has justice not prevailed?
Will the triggers of life, not being the way you expected it to be, ever let up?
Will there be a day that your previous friendship becomes restored?
How did this unwanted job change happen?

Jeremiah addresses this pain, “He has driven me away and made me walk in darkness rather than light” (Lamentations 3:2 NIV). 

I have a friend, who knows pain. Pain that destroys. Suffering that isolates. My friend has said to me, “I just have a dark cloud that follows me everywhere I go.”

And somehow even in all Jeremiah witnessed, he recalls this truth:

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him” (Lamentations 3:21-24 NIV).

Collectively, we wait for the Lord. We can make the choice to wait in surrender to Him because His love never runs out for us.

We wait and surrender like every day is Resurrection Sunday.

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life’” (John 8:12 NIV).

Have you made the decision to surrender the darkness of this world for the light of eternity with Christ?

Fifteen years ago, on Easter Sunday, I sat in church alone, doing just that. I forfeited the ways the darkness of the world would no longer keep me from the plans God had for me.

This Easter, we get to do just that, accept God’s costly gift of Jesus’ life with the acceptance of His invitation to one day never walk in darkness for eternity. 

It’s possible, you’ve already made that decision to give your life to Jesus. You’ve died to yourself and the desires of this world for the gift of walking with God now and for eternity. 

In what area of your life can you trade the darkness that overcomes you for God’s glorious light? 

I’m praying that you join me in opening the blinds here on Earth and for eternity. 

It’s not bedtime friends! 

Let’s find Resurrection Day, every day!

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).

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Lent—Fasting—Victory