In the Dark

When I was a kid, like many of you, I was terrified of the dark. Not because I was afraid of a nocturnal monster, but because I was afraid of the uncertainty darkness cast on my comfortable surroundings. At night, for all I knew, the things hiding in the dark were infinitely more terrifying than any frightful creature I imagine.

As we drag, kick, and scream our way through life—as we dance, laugh, and kiss our way through life—we cannot possibly anticipate what greatness, what sadness, is hiding in the shadows of our future. And what's both more chilling and comforting is that what has happened in our past will have always have happened in our past—the permanently exposed.

In the dark, I've faced somatic and emotional torment beyond my wildest imagination. In the dark, I've stumbled in search of courage and hope. In the dark, I've wondered aimlessly into victory and happiness.

It's what life is all about, really. What's lurking in the shadows. Sure, many of us prefer recess during the day to discover happiness and ponder our place. But on a playground in the middle of the day, we see everything. Every slide, every jungle gym, every picnic table—it's all in plain sight. On this playground, we do what we wish because we know what we wish; we see our next step.

But at night, when the swings are desolate and even the moon has settled; when the streetlamps have retired; when the stage is cast in darkness—this is where we can only assume what will come.

After Midnight
As so many grandmothers do, mine reminded me that "nothing good happens after midnight." And how true she was. Nothing good could possibly happen after midnight because "good" is a description of mediocrity. Midnight is the icon of darkness; it does not know mediocrity. Greatness? Yes. Horrific tribulation? Perhaps.

In the dark, we drive more carefully, our guard is higher, our senses more alert, our mind more focused. That's the way things are, not because we love the dark but because, inevitably, we must endure the dark.

The greatest darkness is the future. What will happen tomorrow, next week, next year, in an hour? It's the kind of darkness that we should keep top-of-mind to make the most out of. In the light—the present—we must make most of what we have to best prepare for the darkness ahead.

No one will ever see into darkness, but if we play our cards right, when the sun finally shines, we will embrace whatever peril, whatever fortune, comes our way. Faith will guide. And if it is the case that we stump our toe along the way, we will learn where next to walk; if we do not, we run the risk of falling into a different kind of darkness.


Andrew