Night

I am a mosaic—

a patchwork of grace and beauty with purpose.

I don’t say that because I see it all coming together, or because I feel it—I don’t. I’m still unraveling. I’m hurting. I’ve knelt in bitter tears on the bathroom floor without a prayer because the grief felt too great and the hurt too deep. I’ve felt hopeful, and I’ve felt betrayed. I’ve felt both near to and far from his love.

I don’t say that because I can always feel it. I say that because I’ve seen God’s work. I know what he has done and has promised to do. What I feel does not change the fact that he is near, and he is working.

I don’t feel it. I know it.

I like to consider myself a creative, and I feel honored to have inherited this attribute from God, the great creative—the one who made light out of darkness and form out of void.

Genesis 1:1-5 records God’s divine word revealed to us:

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.”

Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think these first five verses are the first words written in the Bible simply because it speaks of the beginning. I imagine God knew we would face times of light and times of darkness and would need to be reminded often that he named them both.

“God called the light day, and the darkness he called night.”

He did not create darkness, but he gave it a name. He took something purposeless and gave it purpose—he called it “night”.

“And the evening and the morning were the first day.”

God established night and day to walk closely beside each other and to be the basis of how we measure our lifetime. They work in tandem. Day comes and is quickly followed by night, and night by day—a cycle that remains consistent to this day, after all this time.

Later in Chapter 1, God placed the Moon and stars in the night sky to be sources of light in the darkness. The stars, massive spheres of light appearing like glitter to our eyes, shining brightly from galaxy’s away, and the moon that reflects the light of the Sun—these bodies were set in the heavens to bring light and beauty, and to help us navigate the void we all share, and yet all experience so differently.

Our times of plenty, health, and happiness will be followed by times of longing, sickness, and heartache. While each of our experiences and situations will look a little different from each other’s, this fact remains true. It’s how we respond in these times, especially the difficult ones, that really make or break the person we are meant to become.

I love that God created the Moon to reflect the Sun. For me, it brings to mind the importance of remembering God’s promises and blessings in the good times and reminds me also to reflect that joy and hope in seasons of suffering.

Even if we’ve been in a season of suffering for a long time, and the good times seem galaxies away, there are some glimmers of light to be had and experienced in our present darkness—little bits of joy to be witnessed, scattered like the stars if you look for them. A note of encouragement, a good night of sleep, the feeling of peace you get while sitting outside, listening to the sound of crickets chirping on a cool, summer evening, the calm of a rainstorm battering your window after a long day when you’re settling in for the night— these little moments are just some of the hundreds I could mention that occur, often times, without notice. So much in life is taken for granted.

We climb mountains; we descend into and ascend out of valleys. Ocean tides rise and fall. The moon waxes and wanes. Leaves grow, change colors, and fall—all in a week's time it seems—littering the ground, much like the strands of my hair the past few days. Still, I’m finding moments of joy, glimmering in the darkness. I started looking for them, because God knows I needed something to hope in. I needed to hope in something small and tangible to grow my faith—to be able to hope for the things I cannot yet see.

This passage in Genesis and all of nature is a reminder to me that this time of darkness has a purpose. My darkness has a name—mediastinal large B-cell lymphoma. It’s not as pretty a name as “night” but that’s because it was given by doctors. That’s ok though, because I know God knows it. And he has a name for my night too—a secret name that only he knows. God didn’t create this cancer, but he will use it to a beautiful end he has prepared if I allow him to.

He has a name for my night. A design planned out for the unraveled pieces of me that I cannot feel or see, and cannot even begin to imagine—

a patchwork of grace and beauty with purpose.

“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, The moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him?” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭8:3-4‬

“O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, And art acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, But, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, And laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is high, I cannot attain unto it. Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: If I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, And thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; Even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; But the night shineth as the day: The darkness and the light are both alike to thee. For thou hast possessed my reins: Thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: Marvellous are thy works; And that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, When I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; And in thy book all my members were written, Which in continuance were fashioned, When as yet there was none of them.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭139:1-16‬

“For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.” Isaiah 41:13

The same hands that created light out of darkness and knit me together, are the hands that hold me as I unravel—are the hands that create new beauty from the pieces too heavy for me to lift.

This is a chapter in my story.

The night in my day.

My darkness is his night.

Whatever darkness you’re experiencing right now, whatever name it has been given—known or unknown—whatever your night, know this:

You are not forgotten.

Your darkness is his night.

I don’t feel it. I know it.