Why do we still participate in daylight savings time? Yes, I know, farmers in the fields and work before the school bell could ring. But honestly, that response has never quite felt sufficient. 

When we “fall back” an hour, I grumble a thousand times in protest! I grumble because it takes me weeks to adjust to the “time change.” It’s not time I’m struggling to adjust to; it’s the amount of light or lack thereof in the sky. I love long days and blue skies and grow weary of dark mornings and even darker afternoons. I assume I’m not alone, but I could be.

Our relationship with the darkness is always a struggle, metaphorically speaking. When life is clear skies and long days, life is good. When life is dark and gloomy, life is bad. An oversimplification for sure, but not far from some of the theology that has been handed down throughout the generations. 

Though, I believe the Spiritual path reveals that Spirit is in all times, all places and through all seasons. Therefore, many of the holiest moments of our lives are gifts to be found in the dark. 

Yes, in the darkness, there is struggle. In the darkness, there is doubt. In the dark, there is loss, and yes, even sometimes pain. But we also discover in the deepest darkness of fear that is the very place hope is born. In the deepest darkness of brokenness, we discover that is the very place grace is found, for we come to discover that the deepest darkness is not the place where hope, grace or love goes to die. No, the deepest darkness is the very place grace, hope and love go to be reborn. So then, I wonder how the darkness may be the gift we didn’t know we needed. 

 

With great hope,

Matthew