Knitting in the dark

If I say surely the “darkness will hide me,
and the light become night around me”
even the darkness will not be dark to you…

Psalm 139:11–12

Although the nights are getting lighter, I keep finding my thoughts drawn back to the dark. Darkness can be such a compelling metaphor. We associate it with grief, or depression, or blindness. We don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Whether out in the world or inside ourselves, dark places can be disorienting and distressing.

But here’s the thing: darkness can also be oddly comforting.

Imagine that moment when you’ve come to the end of a long day. You sink into bed and finally switch off the light. The sudden pitch-black offers a sweet relief. There is no more work to be done today, only sleep.

New life always begins in darkness, too. Seeds in soil, caterpillars in cocoons, babies in wombs, Jonah in the whale, Jesus in the tomb. All might be hidden in the confusion of the unseen and unknown, but all is not lost. There is always more going on inside us that is yet to be revealed.

Perhaps in our night-time seasons, we can find ourselves a place to rest, knowing that for all the ways we can’t see him, Jesus can still see us and is knitting us back together in the dark.

string of hearts
Creative Commons String of Hearts by Wordless Memoirs is licensed under CC by 2.0

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