The Ascent Out of the Valley

The cloud cover on my heart and spirit is lifting. What's strange is: part of me wants to stay up under those dark clouds. It feels comfortable. Being checked out is getting to be comfortable.

However, there is another part of me that is ready to rise up out of the valley. That part of me knows it is time to start my ascent.

As the clouds clear, it is reasonable to expect my thoughts to still go back to what happened. The details of the storm that led to my descent will certainly still come to mind. Surveying the damage after the storm is normal. For a short time, I will be allowed to go back. Mourning what has been lost is natural. Retrieving what can be salvaged is expected.

Then, it is time to vacate the valley because it is not safe to stay any longer. An Authority comes to tell me to evacuate now. The directive is firm but gentle.

As I begin my ascent, I look back over my shoulder to look at the wreckage. It feels surreal. A sadness sweeps over me. Simultaneously, I feel a firm yet compassionate Presence leading me out of the dark into the sunlight.

Micheal Bernard Beckwith talks about three kinds of darkness:

1) Gestation Darkness: When something is about to be birthed from you.

2) Shedding Darkness: When a part of you that no longer serves you dies off.

3) Blinding Darkness: When you look directly into God's light and the brilliance temporarily takes away your sight.

All three seems to apply to my recent valley experience.

As the clouds lift, I am having trouble adjusting to the light. Still I put one foot in front of the other and move towards the light.

My footsteps may be wobbly. My muscles may have atrophy. Yet, I still go forward into the light.