I’m afraid of the dark. Always have been. You too? Maybe it’s because I don’t see well in the dark – who does you say? Maybe because I’m a Type A personality, you know, slightly excitable (some call that jumpy) – I know, hard to believe, isn’t it? I don’t know exactly what I’m afraid of. The landscape is no different at night than during the day. I can’t see what’s going on so I can’t control what’s going on? Never mind the reason, I’m still afraid of the dark.
I’m working on overcoming that fear. I no longer insist on living where there are street lights. Good thing. Where we live there are no street lights. Slightly bothersome since I always found comfort in my dad telling me not to worry, they’d let me go once they got me under the street lights! Thanks, Daddy.
Anyhow, if the moon’s not up, it’s pitch black at our place. And, I’m afraid. Don’t they (there’s the they again – whoever they might be) say that the first step in overcoming a fear is facing it? Well, I’m a working on it.
The first day of 2019, like clockwork, the worst-best dog ever wanted to go for a walk at 6:00 a.m. It’s very dark at that hour. It was one of those creepy mornings – it’s the first of January, and the wind is blowing like crazy. I suit up in my early morning walking garb – sweatshirt, PJ pants – otherwise known as Wal-Mart-wear, and my long purple bathrobe that has big holes around the bottom from the worst-best dog ever. We step out onto the porch and guess what – it’s 60 degrees! That’s just creepy in the dead of winter. We set off…we walk down the road, to the back of our property, in the dark. The further we walk away from the house, from safety, the less light I see. I’m thinking of turning back each step I’m taking forward. Until we reach a spot along the fence line between our field and the cow field behind us…and suddenly, there is illumination…
From noon to three, the whole earth was dark. Around midafternoon Jesus groaned out of the depths, crying loudly, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” which means “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” Matthew 27:45-46
…it is the spiritual darkness that should give me terrors. It is the spiritual darkness that should make me most afraid. It is the spiritual darkness that should make me jump out of my skin.
While on that cross, Jesus took on the sins of the world. Jesus’ groan from the depths was caused by my sins. Yours too. When Jesus took on my sin, He was separated from His Father. Why? Because sin and God cannot coexist. Not even a little bit. He was my ransom. Jesus took on the agony of death for me, and you. That’s a shocking statement, but a true statement. Think about it.
By now it was noon. The whole earth became dark, the darkness lasting three hours – a total blackout. The temple curtain split right down the middle. Jesus called loudly, “Father, I place my life in your hands!” Then he breathed his last. Luke 23:44-46
Slashed right down the middle, the barrier that kept us from God. We are no longer cordoned off behind the curtain – we are no longer separated from the Most Holy. We have complete access, there is no longer an obstruction – well, maybe just one. Me. You. Look what Jesus said. “I place my life in your hands!” Can you say that too? Have you done that?
You see, my illumination on that walk, my fear facing walk, revealed that I have nothing to be afraid of. Jesus paid the price. I need only place my life in His hands. Don’t get me wrong, if something jumps out of the woods when I round the fence line of life, I’m going to scream like a girl and run. I’m going to run to the Savior, to the One who separated Himself from His Father so that I don’t have to be separated from the Father for all eternity. Eternity is a very long time…it’s forever…Have you placed your life in His hands?