I Will Sit With You in the Dark

“When you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.”

That’s the message on a little rock I saw awhile back at a farmers’ market. One of our daughters was facing some seemingly insurmountable hurdles in her job, and I knew she was discouraged. I’d offered what little wisdom I had, but it hadn’t changed things. Maybe, I thought, she just needed to know that she wasn’t alone.

I bought the rock. And gave it to her.

Sit with you in the dark rock

And then I thought about Joseph, the technicolor-coat guy.

You know the story: Joseph was sold into slavery by his own brothers, rose to power in the house where he served, got tossed into jail on a trumped-up attempted rape charge, languished in prison for years, and then–finally–found himself at Egypt’s helm, running a famine-relief program that saved not just that nation, but her neighbors as well.

A lot of folks (myself included) like this story because of its happy and redemptive ending. “You intended to harm me,” Joseph tells his brothers when they’re finally reunited, “but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20)

It’s a great punchline to a roller-coaster of a story, and it’s true: God does work, in all things, for the good of those who love him.

But what about Joseph’s long years in the dark? What about the time he spent out of the spotlight, wondering (I imagine) why God was letting him languish? Did God still love him? Had he been forgotten? Was God even paying attention?

What you need to know in the dark

These are legitimate questions, ones we may wrestle with when we find ourselves in a pit. Being in a difficult or pain-filled season rarely makes sense. And trying to figure God out never helps; “My thoughts,” he says, “are not your thoughts.”

(As if we need reminding of that.)

What does help, I’ve found, is knowing that God is in the pit with you.

The Bible tells us that God was with Joseph, both in the fancy house where he served and in the dark jail. And it says that he is with us today–and that he’ll be with us always, to the very end of the age.

Scripture has plenty of “God with you” verses–check out Isaiah 41:10, Zephaniah 3:17, and Hebrews 13:5 for a quick sample set–but one of my favorites (at least when we find ourselves in the dark) is Psalm 139:

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

Application?

First, no matter how high we go, how low we sink, or how far we fly, God is there.

Second, he promises to guide us and hold us fast.

And third, the darkness–even the blackest, most desolate night–is not dark to God.

You are not alone

Not long ago, our little farmer’s market purchase made its way to the home of another family member. It wasn’t the first time the “sit with you in the dark” message got re-gifted; that rock has made the rounds with our crew. As one of my daughters once put it, “It’s not something you ever want to get, but when you do, it’s nice to know you’re not alone.”

You are not alone.

Whoever painted our little rock had no idea how powerful his or her message would turn out to be. Because while it’s good to have a friend or a family member who will sit with you in the dark (someone, as the old story goes, with “skin on”), what’s even better is knowing that God is there, too. Our rock points us toward the Rock, the One who is our refuge, our deliverer, and our salvation.

I don’t know what darkness you might be facing right now, but remember: God is with you. He hears your cry. And he will deliver you.

The Bible is brimming with prayers prayed in the pit, and also with songs of deliverance. As you think about your own life, are there places where you have sensed God’s nearness in the dark? How have you experienced his help, his comfort, or his power? Where do you need his presence today?

Reflect on God’s faithfulness, telling him your needs and thanking him for what he has already done. Use any of the verses highlighted in this post if you want a prompt to help shape your prayer, or borrow David’s words from Psalm 40:1-3:

I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
    out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
    making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
    a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
    and put their trust in the Lord.

Amen

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Immanuel, Epanalepsis, and God With Us in 2019

Note to Readers: This is the last post of 2018, and actually the last one you’ll get from me for awhile. I’m praying through a few new projects and taking a little break from the blog. Might be a few weeks; might be a month. And as I say to my children sometimes, when they pull out of the driveway and I know I won’t see them for awhile:  The Lord be with you!

Which is actually a great segue into this week’s offering…

I’ve told you about Mark Forsyth before.

He’s the bestselling author of, among other books, The Elements of EloquenceWhich is where I discovered the word I was looking for, after re-reading the Christmas story last week.

Epanalepsis.

Epanalepsis, if you need to jog the old bean, is a term that describes circular writing–ending up in the place where you began. Think the Beatles and Yesterday, or Robert Burns’ “Man’s inhumanity to man.” Epanalepsis implies continuation, the idea that something is on-going.

And nobody, if you ask me, uses epanalepsis better than Matthew.

You know how he begins his account. He gives us the back-story on Jesus, summing up the genealogy like this:

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:  “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

That’s Matthew 1:23, and it’s the only time in the entire New Testament where Jesus is called “Immanuel.” But it’s not the only time we hear that God is with us. That stuff is all over the Bible. And if you flip to Matthew 28–the very last verse in the very last chapter of Matthew’s story–you’ll see where Jesus says this:

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

Isn’t that a neat bit of story-telling? I mean, the very first thing we learn about Jesus (that He is Immanuel) is also is also the very last thing Matthew tells us he says (that He is with us). Put another way–and had Matthew read Forsyth, he might even have put it like this–Jesus is One Big Epanalepsis, stretching out across history, with us forever and always.

So what does all of this on-going with-ness actually mean? What can we look forward to, as we move from one year to the next?

It means freedom from fear. God is with us, giving us the strength and the help that we need. (Isaiah 41:10)

It means peace and joy. God is with us, rejoicing over us, singing over us and quieting our hearts with His love. (Zephaniah 3:17)

It means unconditional love. God is with us–and nothing in our past, nothing in our present, nothing we could ever think or do or say in the future, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from His love. (Romans 8:38-39)

I could go on, but you get the idea. We might not know what 2019 has in store but wherever we are, whatever we face, whatever we may need in the way of strength or comfort or wisdom or peace, God has us covered. He is with us. And He loves us–today, tomorrow, and to the very end of the age.

Epanalepsis, personified. 😊

So Happy New Year! And may the Lord be with you–forever and always!

 

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