Today is the Winter solstice. To some that has some mythical meaning, but to me, it is simply the day with the least amount of sunshine, followed by the longest night. This Yankee turned lover of the south relies on the sunshine to brighten my outlook. So the Winter solstice represents a day with less of what I rely on and have come to love. But this also means that tomorrow the days will ever so slowly grow longer and the nights shorter, until we once again breathe a sigh of relief when the trees bud in Spring and the birds sing.
I haven’t shared much in the past year or more, as is in my nature to do, because I have been in my longest night. Trapped in a blanket of darkness where I allowed what came in the name of godly love to draw me so close to the gates of hell that I began to fantasize of death, and even beg the Lord to take me and relieve my suffering; but for my children, I had no desire to live another day, another moment. You may have seen me at church or the office, taking a long solitary walk, driving with tears streaming down my face thinking one fast turn into a pole and it would all be done… I became a shell of my better self and maybe I fooled you with a smile or you caught me on a day that I had showered and pulled myself together. But even I could see the light had left my eyes.
The truth is, I wept more days and nights than not in these past 18 months or so. I lost the inspiration to write, and the joy I once found in a solitary wildflower on a path that felt like God hand picked it for me, the wonder of the morning sun spilling into my room, and the giggle of delight feeling God’s presence when I lay in the warm grass and hear a melody of birds. And as I sit in my chair, the morning sun that will be all too brief today, pouring into my quiet home, I am grateful to reflect and see that somebodies carried me.
It was not one person, it was not God alone. It was the warm motherly hug that I carried with me for days. It was the saints who prayed over me in silence and sometimes audibly and with me. It was the persistent encouraging words of a friend, reminding me of truth, of God’s unchanging merciful truth, as the devil roared in my ears day and night. I could not see beyond my darkest and longest night.
I once read the Bible to encourage me, and to learn the nature of God. But I have now learned how important a comprehensive understanding of God’s word is in order to combat the attacks of the enemy. If I ever took spiritual warfare lightly, I now see that it is not just our sin nature we must call into obedience, but it is a foundation of truth that we must unflinchingly grasp in order to fight this fight as an enemy roams about seeking to destroy all that God loves. This is war and I feel I have been pulling my battered body across a battlefield of broken shards of glass, my bloodied elbows and hands grasping for light, a refrain of His truths playing over and over, reminding me that we are not promised a life without affliction, but a life that we do not have to walk alone, and that holds the promise of His ultimate victory over death.
Perhaps once more I will find the girl who wanted to lick the bowl and spoon of life, eking out every last drop of goodness and redemption. The girl who jumps from planes she fears, and snorkels in the oceans that terrify her, the girl who can spend hours lost in the kitchen tinkering with new ideas. I like that girl. I have missed her. I feel I will be eternally grateful for those of you who helped me survive my longest night. Thank you.
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