It has not been a quiet week in our town.
Poulsbo, Washington sits on Liberty Bay 18 miles across the Puget Sound from Seattle. Our “Little Norway”is full of Scandinavian charm and actual Scandinavians.
On a clear day from various hills around town you can see the Olympic Mountains to the west and Mt. Ranier to the southeast. Woods hide flaws here. And tides mark time.
As parents, we are shaken, and moved to pray deeply, from broken hearts, for our kids. To love them more clearly, more vocally. To give them hope that darkness passes.
Honestly, sometimes, it feels like it never will. The world outside is war, and disease, and death. And school is fear. And tragedy hits home.
Sometimes, it feels foolish to hope. Every day the headlines are worse.
They see it, too. They know. They can count. One every year, my son said.
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Dear mom who feels the darkness,
I feel it, too. So heavy. A darkness consuming days, raining sorrow.
Inescapable dread, eclipsing joy.
It’s so hard to see in the dark. My eyes are old. And tired of seeing pain. I bet yours are, too.
But night does not last forever.
This is a promise we can trust. We have evidence every day as night passes into dawn.
Tell your children you love them and pray they will hear and embrace the truth that God loves them and has a purpose for their lives.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord . . . Jeremiah 29:11-14
And tell stories of when you were nearly overcome by darkness, but you reached out to God for help and he helped you even when the situation looked impossible.
“Exactly at the instant when hope ceases to be reasonable it begins to be useful . . . . the only kind of hope that is of any use in a battle is a hope that denies arithmetic.” G.K. Chesterton
And pray always, dear mom who feels the darkness, because you are fighting a spiritual battle for your children’s lives.
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The silver rectangle in my hand with the cut out flower was a gift from a teacher for working in my youngest son’s kindergarten classroom. She gave it to me for Christmas just weeks after my husband lost his job and we lost our home. It was the darkest time of my life.
Hope was the thing I needed most desperately. I needed to believe God had a future for me, for Dave, and for our family.
And He did.
But I could not see any of it for a very long time. Not just days, but weeks and months.
The walk through darkness does not have to end in despair. Cling to hope and pray through til the light dawns again.
May Your unfailing love be with us Lord, even as we put our hope in You. Psalm 33:22
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