She slings her bag over her shoulder and pushes through the door. Heels click on the tile as she walks toward the sink. Two girls hunch at the edges of a table in the corner swiping on eye shadow. Another stretches over the sink toward the mirror, applying mascara. Looking in the mirror and turning her head from side to side to check her own make-up, she asks the girls, “Hey, do you think what we’re doing here every night is sin?”
No one startles, but the air in the room stills. Everyone holds her breath. And the quietest of the crew, not to be mistaken for shy or small, turns her head to the side, squints her eyes, and looks up at the questioning girl in the mirror.
Their eyes meet for a split second, then the question asker looks back at her own face, “Ah, never mind,” she says.
And with that, air heaves back into the bodies around the room. Because then she already had an answer from everyone. Including herself.
She never brought up the topic of sin with her coworkers again. And she wasn’t tortured by her new understanding. In fact, it was around that time when the warm fingers of dawn crept onto the horizon of her life and everything within her began stretching awake and singing of hope.
The above story was the first time she heard God calling her to give her life to Him. It was like He was standing on the sidewalk on a bright sunny day calling her to come to the window. Calling her to come out from her self-protective fortress and see His smile in the sunshine.
She describes that time in her life this way, “Eventually, I take a step toward the window and say, ‘Yes, God, I’ll come out, but I need help. Can you come up here and get me? I don’t know how to get out.’ Immediately, He is right there. And His strong hand clutches mine guiding me down a dark stairwell step by scary step, finally breaking out onto the sun soaked sidewalk.”
“The first time I answered God’s call was electric,” she says. “ And since I was at the lowest point in my life, I had no expectations or reputation to uphold. I had nothing to lose.”
She admits, “Subsequent calls from God have not been that easy. I may be out on the sunny street with God today, but darkness still hovers in broken parts of my soul. And every time God points to one of those places, I still have a choice to make. ‘Yes, God please help me walk into and through that dark place.’ Or, ‘Nope, I’ll just stay right here. I’m good. I’ve dealt with enough.’
*
I feel the same. Most of the time I don’t want to venture off my sparkly sidewalk and walk back into dark places either. Could I even handle inspecting those places?
How about you? Do you sense God tapping on a door in a dark corner of your soul too? He’s asking you to join Him and explore a part of you that is painful to look at.
I think the two biggest questions we ask ourselves when God invites us to face our darkness are
- Could He still call me holy and dearly loved if we search this out?
- What will others think of me if they find out?
So instead of letting God in, we minimize the dark broken pieces or deny them completely.
The first few verses of Psalm 139 will help us out here.
1. You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.
That dark place hosting pain, pride, sin or a misguided ideology? He knows all about it. Your heart is no surprise to Him.
And even though He knows all about us, Psalm 139:5 reassures us that He isn’t going anywhere.
You hem me in behind and before, and You lay your hand upon me.
Which is to say, “Wow, God, You know all this about me and still, You’re here.”
Not only is He still here, but if we answer yes to His serenade from the darkened window of our soul, He transfers us from a fortress of secrecy to the fortress of a Father. And here the Father’s arms encircle a broad open space where the atmosphere swells with the warmth of His wisdom and the brightness of His unbridled love for us. Here He secures His hand upon us. Not in punishment, but in promise. His hand gently guides us.His reflexes quickly protect us. His touch registers our heartbeat, sensing our anxieties. And His loving caress reassures us of our route when we doubt.
What is that darkness you keep hiden?
I have a few things in mind for myself. Psalm 139 assures me that no matter how dark it is, it’s never too dark for God.
“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”
John 1:5
Pray with me:
Lord, I am terrified to face that side of me. I want to blame it on others, minimize the magnitude of it, or my responsibility in it. But today I say yes to you. Yes, Lord, please lead me through the darkness, and down the hallway of healing out into your wide open pathways of love. I don’t want to hide this any longer. I trust You. I love you, Jesus. Amen.
*the opening story was used with permission to be published anonymously
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