WHERE IS GOD WHEN IT’S DARK INSIDE?

"Nik, you got toys?" My two-year-old granddaughter asks.

"Yes, sweetie. You know I do. They're in the basement right now." Living in a small house forces us to rearrange things during the holidays. 

"Let's go get 'em," says my take-charge girl, running toward the steps until her stocking feet slide to a halt. 

"Too dark," she says, peering into the abyss below.

The light switch lies out of reach at the bottom of the stairs. Faulty wiring dictates that one must move through the darkness to get to the light and all one's searching for.

My precious child has no idea what's behind the change in her familiar world or why the good times she remembers are so far away.

But my tenacious girl doesn't let unanswered questions stop her from trusting me to get her where she needs to go. Her faith is bigger than her britches when I take her hand.

"Let's go," my brave babe says. 

Then, she whispers, “I’m not a baby."

Maybe not, but she's my baby. I'll never let her face the darkness alone.

As we slowly descend, I remember the truth I often forget when facing the murky unknown.

“When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you; your troubles will not overwhelm you," our Father God says in Isaiah 43:2.

So why do I frantically paddle through the dark times on my own?

If a scaredy-cat grandma like me runs to escort her anxious grandchild down a flight of stairs, how much more will our Loving Shepherd guide us through every dreaded day and difficult hour?

Sometimes, our path makes no sense. We seek God's good, but it’s so far off.

It's tempting to believe God is absent and frantically claw at the paneling, looking for a magic switch that will make the pain disappear.

Jesus knew this time would come. He saw your fear; it broke His heart, so He prayed for you.

Yet Jesus didn't pray you'd find a shortcut to what you seek. He prayed that you'd find Him wherever you are.

Jesus is with you in the darkness, even now.

Before you take another step, pause; ask Him to lead you through the night.

That's how my sweet girl navigates the unknown these days. I pray she never outgrows reaching for my hand.

And you're God's precious child, fully known and never alone. He loves you even more.