Box of Darkness, Shadow of Light

I once heard somebody describe a season in their life as a “box of darkness.” The phrase confused me and unsettled me.  I didn’t like the idea that someone could just hand someone else something that was harmful. Over the years, that phrase has occasionally resurfaced in my mind. Now, on the cusp of yet another birthday, I find myself understanding it a little more.

If you were with me this week last year, you may remember a few days when I was not quite myself. It was Spring Break and the week of my birthday, so my routine was off, but it was more than that. This week last year was one of the more subtly intense ones of my young adulthood. I don’t know what it was about that particular week, but turning 30 hit me like a freight train. And, before I worry anyone – no, it hasn’t been the worst year of my life, there’s no hidden messages in this post and I’m (God-willing) not dying of a rare disease or about to shock you with some bit of news. But I can tell you without hesitation, my 30^th birthday was the first birthday I can remember NOT being excited about. I definitely went into it thinking about it as a box of darkness.

If you’ve been reading my blog, I bet you can guess. About this time last year, I realized with fresh eyes that I had unintentionally absorbed the assumption that I would be married and have started a family before I was “old.” [For the record… 30 is not old, but apparently when I absorbed that dream, it seemed like it.] The arrival of my 30^th birthday without a husband or family in sight meant that my dream wasn’t happening. I would never be able to say I was married in my twenties. Any children I have will have to arrive in the next handful of years because the risk of pregnancy complications later in my 30’s increases exponentially. I am quickly approaching the age when the people stop asking if there’s anyone in my life and just start assuming I am perpetually single, broken, not wanted, or must have accidentally passed up the right guy. The dream of being married ‘young’ died on my 30^th birthday. In the span of one week, I realized that’s what I was hoping for, grappled with the unlikelihood of it, and then watched it die as everyone else sang me happy birthday. My birthday party was also a functional funeral for some of the only dreams I’d actually dared to hold onto during one of the most turbulent seasons of my life.

I had a fantastic birthday party filled with friends that I love dearly. I enjoyed every minute. 

But I as soon as the party ended and guests were gone, I cried my whole drive home.

It was both a wonderful moment and very disappointing realization wrapped into a car ride that left me literally crying out to God. “Seriously! I wanted ONE thing in my twenties! I would’ve traded almost anything for it. I don’t want to sound ungrateful because You’ve done some amazing things for me, but for real—what is taking so long on this one? Did all those prayers get lost like socks in the laundry?” I’m glad it was dark out, because I was a mess. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, only to communicate the depth of the sadness I felt. It was not my favorite day.

So this year, I’ve had a choice in responding to my new reality. The thing about the darkness of disappointment is that it is innately distracting, but it can be consuming. How do we handle the disappointments or the darkness life brings? I think our natural tendency is to either fight it and move forward or to let it consume us. But actually, I think it’s really important to do both. Acknowledge the darkness’ presence, but don’t let it become “normal.” Even if there’s no foreseeable way forward, we always have a choice in our attitude. But attitude changes are about as useful as perfume on a stinky gym bag if we haven’t admitted we’re in the dark on this one. In short, that has been the journey of year 30. I can say in retrospect, it has actually been one of the best years of my life overall. But if you would’ve told me that a year ago, I probably would’ve looked you in the eye to measure your sincerity and then looked down as my eyes filled with tears of disbelief because I could not see past the darkness of navigating my 30’s alone.

Darkness can be consuming when it is accompanied by silence. Chaos in the dark is a whole different ball game but when you’re met with a box of darkness and no one to answer the echo of your calls, we’re faced with what we know: it’s all you, babe. You and Jesus with have to navigate this.

When we’re in the middle of something dark, our eyes do something that I believe is God-given whether we acknowledge Him as Creator or not: they look for light. When I come home each night, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of my living space and when they do, they’ve found sources of light, however dim, that help me navigate my way toward the light switches. By God’s grace, I found the light switch of year 30.

I won’t say it was an immediate change or even a quick one, but this whole year has been a grueling process of growing faith and trust as I seek the only One who gives my life light. Year 30 has cultivated a relationship with God that I had not previously known could be so deep and satisfying. I moved to a new apartment and cut internet and TV from my life and the result has been more silence – more depth with my prayer life with God and a hunger to learn about a couple specific areas, too. I’ve learned to appreciate the freedom of singleness and learned how to surrender my daily hopes and plans to be helpful to those around me. I certainly don’t do it perfectly, but I am far more aware of my “free agent” status in the Kingdom of God and I don’t resent the lack of roots right now. In fact, God has shown me I do have root system – it’s just a different design than most people around me.

It was only after I was faced with the darkness of disappointment that I could more clearly sense the light. The night of my birthday party, God met me in the car. In the midst of me crying out, “Why, God?” He answered with assurance of His timing. Now, I don’t know where you theologically stand on the issue of people hearing from God, so if you’re about to call me crazy, I respect that- but then you also have to acknowledge it’s really only God and I who know what happened that night. I can tell you that what He spoke aligns with Scripture and that it brought a peace with it that only the Holy Spirit can bring our hearts. The type of knowing that says, “I hear you, but you’re not alone and I have a plan. I’m not leaving you. Here’s your next step.” It was light in the darkness.

A year removed from that freight-train moment, here’s what perspective has taught me. Sometimes, darkness welcomes itself into your life without invitation or an expiration date. I’ve seen so many friends fight though darkness this year and in almost all cases, it is not a result of a mistake but instead is a form of innocent suffering. The depth of darkness that comes with the loss of a family member, struggles with infertility, financial strain, chronic illnesses, relational stress, and career changes are often not things we choose but still have to navigate. But sometimes, the darkness is only a shadow. How are shadows created? By placing an object between the wall and the source of light. This seems to be the case for my 30^th birthday. The thing between me and Jesus was a hope of marriage that was literally blocking me from seeing His light clearly. This is the definition of idolatry – anything that becomes a higher priority or a greater joy than the presence of God Himself.

This year, I’ve had to learn to see the shadow, to find its source, and to step out of it in order to more clearly see the light. I am thankful that this particular shadow is not all-consuming but only requires a change in perspective. I had to decide to be a woman of the light instead of a lady of the shadows. This doesn't mean I've discarded the hope of marriage, only that I've stepped away from that hope as being an ultimate thing in my life. If you’re in a shadow and aren’t sure if there’s a clear way forward, I would encourage you to pray and see the Light. Look for ways to do what’s wise and look for God’s provision and grace. He will not leave us or forsake us, even in the valley of the shadow of death. And if you've recently been handed a box of darkness, friend, I am praying for you. See the darkness for what it is and then with every ounce of strength, search for the light.