Valley seasons are less than favorable.
In these valleys, my vision is often clouded by grief, anger, confusion, and doubt.
I struggle to find my footing as I move slowly through challenging circumstances.
Why is it so dark here?
Why do I feel so lonely?
Why do things feel so heavy?
How long will I be here?
How will I make it out?
When my eyes are focused on what is happening around me, all I can see is more darkness, more tragedy, more sorrow, and more hopelessness.
But there are moments in the valley where my vision changes from clouded and gray to something brighter.
Every so often when I am at the lowest point of my valley I find that there is no other place to look but up, and when I set my gaze upward I am drawn to a light-
The light.
Though seemingly far off, when I shift my gaze upward, it’s unmistakable that there is a light and that its glow is a massive contrast to the darkness beneath it.
The more I focus on that light I realize that its beams do in fact reach me, even at these depths, and I can feel the warmth of its rays.
I am comforted.
As dark as the valley might be, there is something unique about being surrounded by darkness that allows you to see the light, His light, more clearly.
There is something about wallowing in a season of sorrow that makes joy, when encountered, feel more enjoyable.
There is something about carrying the weight of life that allows you to notice the relief that comes from allowing God to bear those burdens.
There is something about harboring anger and resentment that makes the freedom that comes with forgiveness feel more freeing.
There is something about isolation and loneliness that makes the companionship of Godly community and the comfort found by resting in God’s presence more comforting.
For as much as we all want to experience the mountaintops of life, the valley seasons give us a perspective that allows us to appreciate those mountaintops with greater depth.
How could I realize a light was bright, if I had not seen darkness?
How could I recognize a moment as joyful, had I not felt sorrow?
How could I recognize a feeling of hope, had I not experienced despair?
How could I appreciate clarity and direction, had I not known confusion and turmoil?
Valleys are a necessary part of our paths.
They bring balance to our lives.
They bring a perspective I doubt we could get otherwise.
Of course, I am not saying that I am over here welcoming valleys like long-lost relatives.
If I am being honest, I often run from and fight my valley seasons.
However, when I do finally settle into the season and embrace the low place I find myself in, I realize that there is still goodness to be found.
For even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4, ESV)
There will always be goodness to be found in the valley because God will always be in the valley with us, and God is always good.
There will always be a light to be seen in the darkness because the light of Jesus can always be seen in its midst.
So as much as I dislike a valley, I can appreciate the viewpoint, because when I lift up my eyes to the hills from which cometh my help and I feast my eyes upon the Lord who made the Heavens and Earth (Psalm 121:1-2), I cannot help but behold the beauty and splendor of my Lord.
And that (He) gives me hope. That (He) gives me peace. That (He) gives me comfort. That (He) gives me rest. Dwelling on the beauty and resting in the steadfastness of who He is, is what gives my soul the blessed assurance that though weeping may endure for a night, joy will come in the morning (Psalm 30:5, ESV).