Dark Night of the Soul

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Matt. 27:46

I stood on the edge of the precipice. It dropped off toward the gulf of loveless despair. Behind me was the supposed theory of peace with a God who cared. I wavered on the edge between wanting to believe the theory or being pulled into the pit by my rationalizations. I could only accept the ideal of peace if there was a God to hold me. I asked for ever so long that he would speak up, and the returning silence sickened my heart.

In front of me was the chasm of my deliberations. I explored thought trails—was there evidence for a purpose to my life, had I ever been happy, was joy snuffed out by pain—they were all dead ends. I could not reason my way out of this. The more I thought, the less clear I was about the difference between the silent God behind me and the void of mental puzzles before me. Thinking led nowhere, but without conclusions life may as well not be. Insanity seemed the natural result of reasonable contemplation.

It is called the dark night of the soul, and both classical and contemporary Christian teachers speak of these times when God withholds his presence and forces us to depend on scripture alone. It can last days, months, even years. The reasons our loving Father chooses to subject us to spiritual vacuums differ from person to person.

For me, the nearness of Jesus flowed through the fuel line to my heart until I took it for granted. When a bubble of deprivation slipped into the line, I sputtered and reeled. The moment the octane dried up, I began sucking on the air of my own thoughts. Too much thinking about me is always perilous. My soul was forced into a vacuum long enough to experience the pointlessness of life without the Holy Spirit.

I teetered on the brink of that dismal abyss, smelled rancid breath calling me downward, and was horrified out of complacency. I fell to my knees and begged with all my heart that God would whisper once again. Then I waited… and waited some more. The faintest movement of hope blew and I said, “Good enough, I’ll take it,” and ran back to God.

Prayer: Father, may I never go into that night again, but if I do, even then will I trust you.