When the darkness closes in

I really love to sing, and those who know me a little won't be surprised when I say that I try not to sing anything I can't really mean.

Worship songs and hymns contain some big statements, and I'm uncomfortable with tripping them off without thinking. During my teens, for example, we sang a song, "This is the air I breathe." I remember being hesitant to sing the line, "I...I'm desperate for You" to God. I could acknowledge needing God as I need every breath, but I wasn't honestly 'desperate' for God. I suppose we take for granted breathing clean air until respiratory illness or pollution brings it to the forefront.

Having long grown to sing that one with conviction, a more recent uneasy line has been, "when the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say, 'blessed be the name of the Lord.'" I wasn't so sure that I still would! So instead, I always sang my own variation, "when the darkness closes in, Lord, help me to say..." It was a sung prayer acknowledging that if I couldn't see God's goodness, my faith might turn out to be rather feeble.

Mid-September 2020, I find myself emerging from what has been the darkest period of my peachy life so far. Before being diagnosed with depression (for which I accepted medication and therapy), I remember questioning why I ever 'said yes to Jesus.' Some defining moments around the age of 18 had set me on a path of costly (though imperfect!) obedience to however I perceive God's leading. When sinking into unmanageable sadness, the cost seemed too great. I've a peach of a life! I have multiple reasons to be thankful. In the darkest moments, though, that fact seemed to compound the struggle because I couldn't muster up real appreciation, and that felt selfish and ungrateful.

To try to explain here would be off-point (maybe it's for a future post 😉), but in the last couple of weeks I've experienced breakthrough. God has done something in me, which, although I see some contributing factors, can't just be logically explained away. I can 'see more clearly' than I have in quite a while. And I have learnt something significant.

One song that has resonated with me during the last 8-9 months is Crowder's, "Yet will I Praise You." Here are the lyrics (abridged):


    Should the night fall
    Should the grave call 
    Should the shadows hide the light from my eyes
    Should the winds rage 
    Should the ground shake 
    Should the valley last for miles and miles

    Yet will I praise You...
    Hallelujah, hallelujah...

    Through the dark days 
    Through the heartbreak 
    And though sorrow makes its home by my side 
    In the waiting
    In the aching 
    Though I’m standing in the midst of the fire

    Yet will I praise You...

    You’re still worthy 
    You’re still holy 
    You deserve all of the glory

    Yet will I praise You...


Through my dark days (weeks, and months), I identified deeply with this song. I wept through it at home. I shared it in a meeting and met with concerned eyes! I played it in the car and raised my hands to God whilst waiting at traffic lights: "Yet will I praise You..." because even though my life feels engulfed in fog, and somehow BECAUSE of this, I know just how desperately I need You, God. When I couldn't make enough sense of life to even want tomorrow, for me the only option was to throw myself upon the One whose goodness and worth is not defined by what I see.

Coming out the other side, it has dawned on me that this dreadful experience proves that, indeed, "when the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say, 'blessed be the name of the Lord...'" I understand though, that it's less about the strength of my faith, and more about how utterly senseless life's experiences are otherwise. I could go nowhere else. There Is No Alternative.

The mildly indignant, surely-life-could-be-easier, "why?" question is answered deep within me in ways that I trust I will never forget. In the 'clear blue sky' days, I now ponder, "God, how can I actively rely on You like I have to in the tough days, every day?"⬦

⬦ If you enjoy reading this blog, you can subscribe using the form in the side bar.  Or email me on ThereIsNoAlternative.blog@gmail.com and I'll sign you up. Your email address won't go anywhere else and I am not a prolific blogger! ⬦ Please feel free to share with others, whether on social media or one-to-one. ⬦