The Darkness
After I resigned from Ravi Zacharias International Ministries, a spiritual darkness descended. I'd held the gaslighting, spiritual abuse, and bullying at a distance for months. After I was out of that environment, I collapsed. To try and recover, I went on a retreat to a mountain cabin with sweeping views of the Great Smoky Mountains. As I tried to pray, I pressed my pen into a journal until it nearly tore the page. I tried to capture my angry prayers on paper, but I gave up. The pain was too much to face by myself. Before I left, I threw the journal into the community dumpster so no one would see what I'd written.
Psalm 88:1-18
A song. A psalm of the Korahites. For the choir director, set to Mahalath Leannoth. A contemplative poem of Heman the Ezrahite. LORD, God who saves me, by day I cry out, and in the night I am before you. Let my prayer reach your presence; bend your ear to my pleading. For my soul has had its fill of troubles, and my life touches the world of the dead. I am counted with those going down to the pit; I have become like a man with no strength left. Cut loose among the dead, like the slain who lie in the tomb, whom you no longer call to mind, cut off from your hand. You have laid me in the lowest pit, in dark places, in the deep. Your fury presses down hard on me; you crush me beneath all your breaking waves. Selah You have driven my friends far from me; you have made me vile in their eyes. I am shut in and cannot get out. My eye grows weak from misery. I call to you, LORD, all day long; I spread my hands out to you. Will you work a wonder for the dead? Will those below rise up to praise you? Selah Is your steadfast love ever told in the grave, or how faithful you are in the place of ruin? Is your wonder ever known down in the dark, or how you set things right in the land where all is forgotten? But I, LORD, cry out to you for help; in the morning my prayer comes before you. Why, LORD, do you spurn my soul? Why hide your face from me? I am afflicted, and nearly dead since my youth; I bear your terrors, and I am overcome. Your bursts of anger have swept over me; your terrors have made an end of me. They circle me like water all day long; together they close in on me. You have driven friend and companion far from me; the dark is now my only friend.
God is the sea, and his waves are drowning Heman. He's like a dead man, and he's wasting away because God is angry at him. He's isolated, and he's despised because God cursed him. He starts his prayer with, "Lord, God who saves me," which sounds good. But it's hard to see any evidence of God doing good to him. Since he was young, his life is filled with misery. Even though he prays day and night for deliverance, it looks like God has responded with indifference or cruelty. How can God be good when he's so distant? I want to rescue Heman's prayer, to find the silver lining on the dark clouds. But sometimes the clouds block out the sun, and heavy rain falls all night long. I want to quote a happy verse or transition to an upbeat worship song. The only positive I can find is that he's accusing God to his face, and God didn't throw his prayer in the trash. Instead, he honored this prayer of unrestrained rage by adding it as holy Scripture. Heman's bitterness is earned. It dishonors him to say he's exaggerating, or to encourage him to look on the bright side. I'm uncomfortable with his prayer, but not nearly so much as he is uncomfortable with the unrelenting pain of his life. Some wounds don't heal with time. When you've been betrayed by the people who claim to speak for God. When abuse has rewired how you pray. If you don't feel safe at church, or if all your prayers are unanswered ones. Then you know that the darkness is real. Sometimes the darkness is our only friend. At least it stays with us. Selah. Selah. No one is sure how to translate these words, but a good guess is they were musical interludes for extended reflection. When the congregation brought this psalm into worship, they didn't rush through it. They set aside time to weep, groan, and rage.
What do we learn about God, knowing that he kept this bitter prayer in the Bible?
When you've gone through suffering, did you feel permission to pray honestly, or did you feel like you had to edit yourself before speaking to God?
If you are in the darkness, who is one person you could ask to sit with you? If you're not in the darkness right now, who is one person you could sit with today?
Get a journal (or some scrap paper) you're not afraid to throw away, and write your unfiltered lament to God. Aim your complaint straight at God. Whether you keep it or not, God is listening. Then defy the isolation of Psalm 88. Reach out to one person and send this message: "I'm in a dark place, and I don't want to be here alone." If the darkness feels too heavy to bear, the 988 crisis line (988lifeline.org) is open 24/7. Volunteers are ready to talk with you because they care. You do not have to go through the darkness by yourself.