When darkness speaks, God still whispers

There are many examples of famous writers, particularly poets, whose sorrow and hopelessness inspired acclaimed, timeless pieces of literature. From Edgar Allan Poe to William Shakespeare, these renowned authors have captured the human spirit’s condition in times of grief, loneliness and loss.

The Bible also vividly portrays every loss and hardship experienced by humankind. From Joshua and Moses’ fear and inadequacy to David’s guilt, anguish and despair, many biblical writers candidly and unashamedly confess their weaknesses and hopelessness.

The pivotal contrast between the world’s greatest artists and the biblical writers lies in their search for perspective. And I must say — especially where I find myself today — a God-centered perspective can be the difference between depression and hope, movement and paralysis, doubt and faith.

“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” — King David, Psalm 34:8

I lost my dad last week. What started as a simple infection that should have been easily contained in the hospital snowballed into kidney failure — and his death a week later.

After speaking with my sister and hearing the doctors’ conclusions, I began frantically searching for a flight from Atlanta to South Brazil — a journey which had never taken less than 17 hours since I moved to the U.S. in 1999. I knew I was racing the clock. Would I arrive in time, so my dad knew I was there?

“All you have to do to see God at work is open your eyes.”

These were the words I had repeated to my husband and daughters only days before Daddy went to the hospital. Little did I know I would have to prove whether I truly believed my own words.

My dad’s loss is only one of the grieving moments our family has endured this year. Since January, we have lost my mother-in-law and her husband, both suddenly and within five weeks of each other. We have gone through a workforce reduction and, now, my dad’s abrupt passing.

Many people in my shoes would feel despair. And, don’t get me wrong — if I had any artistic talent, some days I might have been tempted to re-create a version of Munch’s “The Scream.”

But I decided long ago to “open my (spiritual) eyes.” And so, as much as I don’t deny these days have been hard in ways I had never experienced, I can “see” God’s goodness.

Like when, through what I firmly believe were miraculous circumstances, an incredibly generous neighbor who is an airline pilot practically gave me a ticket to Brazil.

Like how I bought the last seat on a plane to my hometown early the next morning and was beside my dad’s hospital bed in record time — only 13 hours after leaving Atlanta.

Or how my daddy knew I was there, spoke to me, held my hand and even sang with me hours before he could no longer speak.

Or how he died, as I prayed, peacefully in his sleep and woke up to see his savior’s face.

Oh yes, I believe God is at work, even in our darkest days.

And so, even though I do not deny my heart is breaking, I humbly offer this article as a token of hope, an encouragement to someone out there — someone tempted to pick up the paintbrush and pour out grief in hopeless abandon:

Friend, you are not alone. Lift your eyes — God is at work. And when you look, I promise you will see him.

Patricia Holbrook is a columnist, international author and speaker. Visit her website at patriciaholbrook.com. Watch interviews with Christian leaders and bestselling authors on “God-Sized Stories with Patricia Holbrook” on YouTube or in podcast platforms. For speaking engagements and comments, email patricia@PatriciaHolbrook.com.