As a child, summer nights meant one thing—flashlight tag. It was thrilling, a mix of fear and excitement. Our large home provided the perfect setting. A ledge on two corners allowed us to set the flashlight down, keeping everyone guessing whether “It” was holding the flashlight or if it was safe to sneak past. We knew the terrain well—where the flower beds lined one side, the covered stairs led to the basement, and how to move quickly along the sidewalk perimeter without falling. We were at home in the dark.
But walking in the dark in life is different. It is not a game. It is not exciting. It is just scary.
I had found myself in the dark more times than I can count—when a child made a harmful decision, when I lost a friendship, when I received a frightening health diagnosis, when I faced the unexpected death of a loved one, or even when I turned on the nightly news. And now, as I age, the darkness has a new fear—falling.
So, what have I learned from walking in the dark?
First, stay still.
When it is dark, it is better to remain calm and still rather than rush heedlessly forward. Stopping is key, whether it is my running thoughts or my running body. I have learned to pause—to let my eyes adjust, open my ears to even the slightest sound, and feel for something steady to lean on. The best first step is often no step at all.
Second, cry out for help.
It feels risky. What if no one hears? What if no one is there? But I have learned that help often comes in unexpected ways. I look back with deep gratitude for the people God placed in my life during my darkest times. If you are in the dark, don’t hesitate to look for help.
Finally, look for the light.
Even the faintest light can be seen in the dark’s stillness. And a little light is all that is needed to make sense of what is around you.
During my cancer journey in 1998, I came across these words by Minnie Louise Haskins:
“And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
‘Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.’
And he replied:
‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.’
So I went forth and, finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.”
There is much about the darkness I do not know, but this is one thing I do know: walking in the dark is inevitable. I pray you may discover a light to be found, a hand to hold, and a way forward in your darkness.
Is there something you are learning about walking in darkness?