In the Northern hemisphere this is quite literally the season of dark nights and with the recent clock change what was a gradual deepening of the quiet hours became a shock of 5pm sunsets. There is a coziness to this time of year, and I think an important reminder that we need to rest. The wildness and growth of summer is not sustainable, there must be times to go inward, to regenerate, to rejuvenate. These dark nights let us do that.

And there are also the dark nights of metaphor. St. John of the Cross spoke about this in the 16th century, the way we come to the comfort of God even in the midst of feeling abandoned in faith. G.K. Chesterton reminds us of the miracle of God’s salvation at the moment of our greatest cynicism in The Man Who Was Thursday. Modern psychology makes our dark night moments a clinical depression, solvable with introspection and pharmaceuticals. I’m not sure we have to ‘solve’ these moments, or excise them from our lives; there are things that can only be learned in the dark, there is growth that happens unseen, and the modern expectation of unrelenting happiness is exhausting.

I am not dismissing the very real experience of depression, I have had many family members who suffered greatly, and who found some relief in stabilizing medication. That is a wonder and a miracle. I also want to offer the possibility that recognizing these moments of darkness as a part of growing in our faith can create unexpected, perhaps unimagined strength and resilience.

We all have moments where we feel lost, alone, abandoned, like our walk with God is pointless. I assume we all have these moments given the amount of writing that reflect this, and the length of time covered by that writing. It is a season we all cycle through in different ways and at different times. Unprepared the season can strike us like a blizzard in the summer. With years of awareness and growth we amass the tools and resources we need to offer better protection during those times.

‘Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.‘ -Psalm 43:5 NRSV

I don’t really notice what my prayer life is doing for me when everything is going along just fine. I have my practices, I do them, I am committed, but certainly I sometimes wonder why – there are other things I can do with an hour every morning. And then, as is inevitable, something happens and I am upset, hurt, feeling lost. In these moments, my worst moments I am able to notice where I have grown, because these are the moments that test me. Twenty years ago I would say all the things that came into my head when I was scared and hurting; five years ago I would hold them inside and then explode; last week I saw them and said ‘no thank you.’ The voices of insecurity, the mean reactivity to being hurt, I was able to sincerely pray, “God, help me to not be the worst of what I can be, help me take the next step with you.” That’s a difference, and I didn’t know that change had happened until the dark night came.

It is an easy to question to ask when things have gone poorly, when we are at our worst, when our world feels like it is falling apart: why would God let this happen? It is an easy thing to wonder, and an even easier path into the temptation of narcissistic unbelief. But I can tell you from experience, God does not break through on the sunshiney days, we are too busy frolicking to notice (I hope we notice the divine beauty of the day but I do understand the distraction); no, God breaks through, if we have primed our heart to hear in the dark moments, the utterly alone moments, that is when we see how far we have come, how much strength there is to help us take the next step.

No one wants those times, but they come the way seasons come and we can’t control everything about our emotional environment or the circumstances in which we live. So pray, meditate, say good morning and good night to God everyday. It is not a mystical incantation to keep the hurt away, it is spiritual weight training for your soul. Just when you think you can’t you find that you can, the thing that seemed impossible is done, and you know you are not alone.

In the happy night, in secret when none saw me, nor I beheld aught, without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart. The light guided me, more surely than the light of noonday… -The Dark Night of the Soul, St. John of the Cross

‘do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.’ -Isaiah 41:10 NRSV