In Darkness
The last two weeks have been the hardest I have faced in a very long time. Beginning on Palm Sunday, the day that kicks off the holiest week of the year, I have been fighting a battle. I have been in darkness.
For two weeks, I have been mourning. On Palm Sunday, my godmother left this earth and went to be with Jesus. Only two months prior, February 19th, we buried my grandfather. I thought I was okay. I thought I was healed. Losing my godmother rocked me to my core. I wasn’t ready. I never saw it coming. It was a complete and total wrecking ball.
Thus began Holy Week - the week of my greatest spiritual battle.
I had so many questions. I was lost and confused, trying to stumble through every day and failing. Every day of Holy Week, something went horribly wrong. It felt like I was being tested. I felt my patience was being tested. My resolve was being tested. My faith was being tested. I broke down every day that week - tears of pain for the loss of my godmother, anger that everything was falling down around me, confusion as to why this was all happening on that particular week.
Why, in the week we remember Christ’s holy sacrifice, the holiest week in our faith, did God forsake me?
Why is all of this happening to me?
I’m in my newlywed year! This year is supposed to be full of trials but also is supposed to be SO joyful. JOYFUL! Why am I being punished? Why am I so isolated? Why did I feel so far from God?
The answer? I’m not and I wasn’t. God did not forsake me. He did not abandon me. He is not punishing me, isolating me, or far from me. During times of great holiness, Satan and his spirits try to tell us lies.
Like Jesus and the trials in the desert, Satan wants to break us. He wants us to believe God doesn’t care and that God rains down punishment upon us. That we aren’t good enough or worthy enough.
Full disclosure, I didn’t come to that realization on my own. It took my husband holding me as I broke down in tears, reminding me who I am, reminding me of the devil’s tricks and deceit, to show me the truth: that my love of Jesus makes Satan scared. That the closer I am to God, the more Satan wants to get at me.
Every day, I continued to pray. I laid it all at His altar. Through my loss, brokenness, fear, and pain, I ran to the altar, giving Him the glory and the honor and He held me together. He held me so tightly and so mercifully. No matter how numb I felt inside, I knew He was there for me and what a gift He gave me in my husband and family.
Only three days after Easter, we buried my godmother and I sang her funeral mass. I prayed for strength and felt the prayers of everyone who knew, guiding me through. The priest who gave the homily spoke so many beautiful things about her, but they all pointed to one thing, her great faith and her love of Jesus. The first thing he said was “Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. Alleluia, alleluia.” Then he said, “If you remember anything from [her] funeral, it is that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.”
She suffered so much in her life, but you would never know it because she offered up every pain, every sorrow, every tragedy, and every loss up to the Lord. She NEVER complained. Every act in her life was one of great faith. Not only did she offer her suffering, but also every joy. When no one else was at church, she would be. She’d be praising Him and showing Him every glory. Even as she was hurting, even as she had every cause for anger, she praised. Truly and deeply. And she was the happiest woman I have ever met. Full to the brim with the joy of the Lord.
Right now, I am in darkness. I am struggling to see the hope and the joy. But I am trying to live every day more like she did. I am giving it all to God. Offering Him my deepest hurt- the kind I can’t even fully put into words. That most precious and delicate part of my heart is at His altar because, even amid this darkness, I know the spark of hope is coming alight.
