Reaching Out in the Darkness
How hard to think, through cold and dark and dearth,
That thou art nearer now than when eye-seen on earth.
That thou art nearer now than when eye-seen on earth.
—George MacDonald. “A Diary of an Old Soul.”
Our
old Westie sleeps curled up at the foot of our bed. That’s been her place for
13 years or so.
Normally she doesn’t move or make a sound, but
lately she’s been pawing us gently in the middle of the night. At first we
thought she wanted to go outside, and tried to accommodate her, but that’s not
what she wants. She just wants to know that we’re there.
She’s
in her nineties now (in dog years), nearly deaf and partially blind. She can’t see
well in the darkness and can’t hear us move or breath and feels insecure. So when
she touches me now I just reach down and pat her on the head and assure
her that I’m there. That’s all she wants to know. She takes a turn or two, settles
down and goes back to sleep.
Confused
in the darkness? Grieving, fearful, guilty, doubting, discouraged? Not sure of God? Reach out for
him. Though you may be in darkness the
darkness is not dark to him.[1]
He could make the darkness light if he chose to and step out of it into plain
sight. That would be no trouble to him because, though unseen, he is nigh. He has said, “I will never leave
you or forsake you.”[2] It must be
true. Put your hand into his outstretched hand. He is there.
David
Roper
11/12/2014
