Darkness Undone by the Light

One year ago I found myself in a very dark place. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. The weight of our losses were too heavy for my body and mind to carry. The ache for Aurelia was deep—and still is. I was watching Behr grow past Aurelia’s earthly age and I could find no joy in it. There was a dark place in my heart and mind wondering if I would have another child live past the age of one.

At Behr’s 9 month check up appointment, the pediatrician joked, “He’s almost a toddler, all you have to do for the next few years is keep him alive.”

The words were like a knife in my already bleeding heart. The damage exposing every dark lie and anxiety I had stashed away. I lived life as though tragedy was around every corner.

I was in counseling every week, I was asking for help from friends, I tried herbs, supplements, and eventually medication. Some things helped. Some things didn’t. The truth I finally had to face was this: There is nothing that can heal a heart speaking death to itself.

Over the last year I had to begin the process of unlearning the way I allow my mind to speak. The unfiltered and intrusive thoughts, the anxieties that ruled my very soul were (and still are) unacceptable. All I was doing was speaking death.

During those dark days I read two verses that the Lord used to transform my heart and began to show me there was a path back to life.

Genesis 2:7, “…then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.”

The words of this scripture, spoken at the beginning of time grounded me. They gave me something to compare my thoughts too. When a new anxiety came in the night, I could ask myself a very simple question.

Is this thought bringing me life?

It wasn’t a quick fix and it didn’t teach me how to combat the thoughts and anxieties I had, but it was the first step to identifying the lies I was telling myself. It forced me to see the errors in my heart and my mind. It didn’t take me long to see that this was more than grief, it was a battle for my mind between darkness and light.

My prayer life began to change. A common thread of the conversations I had with the Lord were asking Him to help me breathe in life and breathe out death. I found the panic begin to lessen as I chose not to entertain the anxieties of life.

Isaiah 26:3 was always on my mind.

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”

It’s hard to believe God’s Word when it comes to anxiety. Is it simple to keep your eyes stayed on the Lord? Is it easy to trusts God in a world that is filled with so much bad? A resounding no comes with both questions to me, but this is what is necessary for perfect peace.

It was a crushing moment to finally admit to the Lord that maybe I didn’t trust him. I felt like he was standing by watching bad things happen to me and doing very little to stop it. In these moments it became clear that I had a choice. I could choose to cling to the truths and promises God made us—whether I could feel them—or not.

I spent a lot of my time in the Psalms reading verses of David as he cried out to the Lord in his distress. He seemed to feel like me. Death encompassed him (Psalm 116:3-4), and yet he still trusted God. I began to feel comforted by the idea that I could feel crushed by death and also believe that God was trustworthy. I asked God to reveal to me his hand in my life. I wanted eyes that could see and ears to hear (Isaiah 6:9-10).

This lead me to the second verse that began the transformation of my mind during that dark season.

Isaiah 42:1-6, “Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. He will not grow faint or be discouraged till he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his law.

Thus says God, the Lord, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it and spirit to those who walk in it: “I am the Lord; I have called you in righteousness…”

These verses, talking about Jesus, described a gentle and faithful God who always gives life. There was something beautiful in the imagery of a God who would not break a bruised reed and wouldn’t quench a faintly burning wick. I began to see God less as a bystander and more as the comforter the Bible claims Him to be.

I was a bruised reed. I was a faintly burning wick. Everything about me and my life felt broken. Yet, there in my Bible was this reminder that the Lord would never grow tired of me. He would not be discouraged by my dark seasons and my questions. He could welcome Aurelia into His arms with joy, and wrap a comforting arm around me on a broken Earth. He is big enough, powerful enough, and good enough to hold us both in exactly the way we needed it.

A year later, I can see the battle for our minds is a lifelong fight. Yet, I have seen such beautiful restoration in my heart and mind even from where I was a year ago. The Lord has drawn near to me and I have become confident in something I haven’t always been: God fights for me.

I’ve learned what it means to be still, focus on the Lord, and let Him do the rest. He is not trying to break me, He wants to restore me. I think He wants to do the same for you.

I still see a counselor (or two) and after putting my kids to bed you can almost certainly find me sitting in the kitchen steeping a hot cup of tea filled with delicious chamomile, lemon balm, and a variety of other helpful herbs. God gave us things on this Earth to help us heal, but I have to remind myself that God himself is the ultimate healer.

Hebrews 4:16 says, “Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

May we all, with confidence, draw near to His throne of grace in our time of need.

Psalm 36:5, “Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.”