CRAWLING IN THE DARK

The Gospel According To Hoobastank

Show me what it’s for
Make me understand it
I’ve been crawling in the dark looking for the answer
Is there something more than what I’ve been handed?
I’ve been crawling in the dark looking for the answer

One of the most powerful lyrics ever penned about the human condition didn’t come from Augustine or C.S. Lewis. No, it came from a 2000s pop-rock band that most have forgotten: Hoobastank.

If there’s one thing that makes sense to me in this life, it’s that nothing makes sense.

What’s this life for? Where is the meaning we thought we knew? When will anything play out the way we thought it would? When will the struggle end? When will redemption win? When will we find the answers?

Will I ever get to see the ending to my story?

We are all crawling in the dark.

Yes, I believe that light breaks through the darkness from time to time. Yes, I believe that light incarnate conquered the darkness within on a hill in Jerusalem two long millennia ago. But even the apostle Paul says that the best we can do is look at reality through a darkened, blurry window.

Every day, I make decisions based on my limited understanding. Based on future outcomes that I have no way of accurately predicting. Every day, I am acutely aware that each sunrise could be my last. Every day, I wish I had a more detailed blueprint, a more accurate road map, for my future. Every day, I wonder if my choices are taking me in the right direction.

Every day, I screw up. Doubt. Navigate the darkness. Worry about death. Worry about life.

Every day, I crawl in the dark.

Show me what it’s for.

Life is a beautiful, beautiful gift, like sight to a blind man or a World Series ring to a Cubs fan. There is enough light in this dark world to help me carry on. But still, I crawl, not knowing what tomorrow holds. Not knowing why the pain never seems to go away.

Nothing. Makes. Sense.

Orphaned Syrian children die. Innocent African-Americans are shot by police. Seemingly sane people pledge their support to a bigoted, megalomaniacal bully of a presidential candidate.

Cancer. Heart disease. Genocide. Famine. Earthquakes.

Pain. Heartache. Death. Loneliness. Suicide.

Nothing. Makes. Sense.

Think about it: to our finite minds, God himself doesn’t even make sense.

Why would he create us, knowing we would turn against him and break his heart?

Why would he give up his glory to cram divinity into a helpless baby who would suffer and die a cruel death?

Why would he want to spend eternity with us, the ones who denied him, drove the nails into his hands, cast the spear into his side?

Love, that’s why. A love that makes no sense. A love that knows no limits.

Is there something more?

To answer your question, Hoobastank, there is something more than what we’ve been handed. A love like we’ve never known. Eternity hangs in the balance, waiting to be freely given to those who believe. Wrongs righted. Hearts healed.

I know this to be true. Still, so many of my questions remain unanswered. So many of my problems remain unsolved. So many of my wounds remain unhealed. So many of my choices remain poor ones. My heart is often still more stone than flesh. I’m still crawling in the dark, looking for the answer.

Help me carry on.

Hoobastank, you said it well. We need to use our hearts, not our eyes, to navigate this darkness. We must walk by faith, not by sight, until the day darkness is swallowed by light.

The ending to this story is better than anything we can imagine. For when this story ends, another begins. This story is perfect. It’s beautiful. It’s forever.

I will dedicate
And sacrifice my everything for just a second’s worth
Of how my story’s ending
And I wish I could know if the directions that I take
And all the choices that I make won’t end up all for nothing
Show me what it’s for
Make me understand it
I’ve been crawling in the dark looking for the answer
Is there something more than what I’ve been handed?
I’ve been crawling in the dark looking for the answer
Help me carry on
Assure me it’s okay to use my heart and not my eyes
To navigate the darkness
Will the ending be ever coming suddenly?
Will I ever get to see the ending to my story?

— “Crawling In The Dark,” Hoobastank

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