Light in the Darkness

I came to a realization yesterday while worshipping at church.

I cannot remember what it is like to dwell in darkness without hope of one day seeing the light.

This occurred to me as I was watching one of my teenage brothers break down during the service. This boy, adopted by my parents last year, was on his knees, crying to God. I could see that, at the very depths of him, and despite his issues, there was a heart's cry for his savior. I could also see how, in his current condition, he struggles to see the light in the darkness.

It brought me back to my younger years. I never battled the types of things my brother has, yet I remember how dim my teenage years seemed. At that time, it seemed there was little hope of recovery from my fallen state. Life was in a constant state of tumult and the shroud of depression that followed it was oppressive.

I remember thinking that there was no end to the void in my soul. It was like standing in an unlit room and feeling that the darkness could go on forever. That sense of hopelessness frightened me.

Did I know that God loved me? I had an idea that He might, but I believed that He loved me less with every sin.

I was not raised in a church that promoted the idea of grace. In my mind, God's love was conditional, dependant on my good behavior. Despite my parents' effort to teach me otherwise, I adhered to what I was taught by church leaders: that God would only forgive me so many times before His grace ran out.

One can only imagine what that mindset can do to someone struggling to discover her self-worth.

I ended up hating myself and came very close to leaving my faith and hope behind. Thank God for never giving up on me, even after I gave up on myself.

It wasn't until July 31, 2000 that God brought me around. I still remember that night: I was at a youth camp in Germany, participating in one of the last church services of the camp. Aside from the desire to travel to another country and experience a different culture, I had gone to this camp with the hope of finding Christ again.

The first half of my time there had been amazing - my fire was being reignited by the second. I felt, once again, a strong call to the mission field and to ministry in general. But it wasn't until that night that I truly experienced the forgiveness and love of God. It also happened to be the first time that I experienced the life-changing power of the Holy Spirit.

I danced with abandon that night - it was just my savior and me, despite the hundreds of other youth in the room. God spoke to my spirit that His love toward me was unconditional and unending.

My life has never been the same.

While I have experienced moments of dryness and moments of desparation since that day, I always carry around the knowledge that God's grace extends to every situation and that, despite all appearances, there is always a light in the darkness.

That is why I struggle to remember what it was like to dwell in complete darkness. Looking at it from my current perspective, I can see the thread of hope that Christ wove through my deepest struggles. I can see how, by that thread, He kept me close enough to Him to want to overcome the despair.

How do I apply this to my life as I know it today? I keep things in perspective. When circumstances overwhelm, I look heavenward and trust that God is in control. I stand in that room and speak to the darkness: "there is light here." God's grace is carrying me through it all.

And, above all, I am learning that Christ has called me, as a Christian, to extend that light to those who currently cannot see it.

I want the Christ in me to reach out to those who are in need of hope and love. I want to share the grace given to me with those who really need it and, perhaps, show them that, in spite of their battles, Christ is there with His infinite love, waiting to catch them.

After all, Christ called us to be a city on a hill. And what good is a lamp if it is hidden?