When I was growing up, my grandparents had this amazing house in the suburbs of Toronto, Canada. When I say it was a mansion, I'm not exaggerating. I had a friend come and stay with me there one time and they kept worrying they were going to get lost on the way back from the kitchen. My favorite area of the house was the top floor. An entire level dedicated to their love of growing plants. It was 360 degrees of windows that gave a breath-taking view of the surrounding area. The house sat on a hill and on a clear day you could see downtown Toronto miles away. I used to love sitting up there with my cousins and watching storms blow through. You could see the lighting strikes all around you from the safety of this glass room. My next favorite feature was an incredible spiral staircase that ran from the top to the basement. The crowning feature was a marble fountain at the bottom of the stairs. We used to drop pennies from the top floor down to the bottom and try not to hit the copper spouts so Grandma wouldn't find us. Not all the memories are great though. There were some times that I was downright freaked out in that house. There was the time two of my cousins and I stayed home from some event while the rest of the family went out. I was sick upstairs in one of the bedrooms at the end of at a long hallway. My cousins apparently didn't know I was there, because all of a sudden I hear them systematically throwing doors open and yelling in each room coming down the hallway. They finally made it to my room and jumped into the room holding pool cues and screaming hysterically at the would be intruder. I'm pretty sure they were more scared than any robber they could have found would have been.
But my worst memory of this great house came in the form of a picture. I know, weird. My mom had five sisters so when everyone came together for Christmas you crashed where you could find empty space. When I was little, that meant the floor in my parent's room. That particular room was downstairs at the far end away from everything and everyone else. It was Aunt Doreen's room. That was my mom's sister who was still living at home when the house was built. But year after year I would find myself on the floor of this room. It had large sliding glass doors that led out to the pool in the backyard and on nights with a full moon the light would stream in through those doors. As that light would come through the curtains it would cast shadows on the wall and on particularly on this one picture frame. For some reason I could never remember to look at this picture with the lights on so I could remember the image. Instead, the lights would go out and the moon would shine in and the shadows would turn that picture into the scariest thing this 5-7 year old boy had ever seen. I would lay awake at night in the quiet of that room staring at what seemed to be some dark and shadowy figure laughing at me from up on the wall. Year's later as a teenager I would actually move into that house for a short time to live. It was during that season of my life that I finally got up the nerve to go in that room and look at that picture that had haunted me for all those years.
It was a picture of two flowers. That was what had scared me for years. Two flowers.
The thought of that picture and the laughing shadow monsters came back to my memory a little while ago when I was reading a very familiar passage of scripture.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. (Psalms 23:4)
I read these verses that I've read a hundred times in my life and a thought hit me. How many times do we feel like we are going through "the valley of the shadow of death"? I know even recently for me I have felt that way. It just seemed like everywhere I looked I saw problems. Big problems, small problems. They were everywhere. I fell into funk. I mean a deep, dark, shadowy funk. One might go as far as to say I became depressed. That kind of feeling where you don't want to be around people. See the problem with being a pastor is that when you are around people they want to talk and because you are a pastor, they usually want to talk about their problems. I had enough problems of my own. I didn't want to hear about anyone else's problems. People wanted to talk about their lives and what they should do to be closer to God. What did God want them to do in ministry? How should they get more involved at the church? And to be honest, I couldn't answer any of those questions for myself. How was I supposed to answer them for someone else? I felt like I was in the "valley of the shadow of death." I felt dead inside. I felt dead spiritually. I felt dead emotionally. I felt dead physically. I just felt dead.
I tried to pray but couldn't get the words to come out right. I tried to read the bible but the words just ran together. God was there. I knew that because I was still operating in ministry. I would beg and plead with God whenever I had to teach a bible study or preach a sermon. When someone finally cornered me to ask a question, I would go into inner prayer mode and beg God to give me something to say. Not because I didn't want to look like an idiot but because I knew people needed to hear something from God. I've been around ministry my whole life and I know that I don't have anything intelligent to say on my own. I know people don't need to hear from me, they need to hear from God. So I would hit my inner knees and petition the throne of God for mercy and grace for this poor soul who ended up coming to me. People would comment later on how what I said was exactly what they needed to hear and breathe a sigh of relief that God had bailed me out. It was frustrating because I felt like God was giving me answers for other people but I still couldn't get answers for my own life. I found myself wanting to quit ministry because I didn't feel like I had anything to offer. I became afraid to speak up in meetings. When my pastor would ask for advice I was very non-committal in my answers because my confidence was gone. It was hiding somewhere in the shadows. I tried desperately to hide in background. In the dark corners of the room, hoping no one would call on me. But that just made things worse. I was at war with myself. I've never been able to do anything well that I'm not passionate about and I'd lost my passion somewhere in the shadow. I felt stuck in ministry. I didn't want to be doing what I was doing but I didn't see a way out. God wasn't opening doors and I suddenly felt claustrophobic in my responsibilities. I lost my ability to communicate well. I lost my creativity. I lost my patience. I was losing it altogether.
I knew God was there but I was seriously losing sight of Him. I just couldn't see Him in anything that was happening around me. I would try committing to more time with Him. More bible reading. More prayer. I would even attempt fasting in the hopes it would force God to show up out of some sense of obligation to my efforts. These were all things that worked in the past but they all seemed to fall short somehow. I was stuck in the valley. The shadows were growing darker. I was growing tired. Scared. Lonely. Desperate.
I ended up at a conference in Dallas, TX. The hotel we were staying at had an outdoor pool on the roof of the fourth floor. I had brought my wife and kids with me and of course the kids wanted to spend every spare moment in the pool. The hotel we were staying in was surrounded by other tall hotels and office building all around us. The buildings cast shadows on the deck of the pool and catching a glimpse of the sun came as a rarity. While I was sitting out there watching the kids play in the water, people would come and go in the sitting area. The water was surrounded by these great lounge chairs and many people came to just hang out and talk. At one point two young women came and took up residence on a couple of chairs in the same row as mine. They sat and talked, laughing and enjoying the time together. The entire deck was covered in shadows, even though it was quite warm on this July day in Texas. Suddenly, the sun moved round the corner of the building and for the first time since I had been on that rooftop there was light. The shadows from the building were split in two and the sun was shining on the other side of the water. As soon as the brightness washed across those lounge chairs, the two young ladies who had been perfectly content to sit in the shade and relax got up. They gathered their towels, their phones and drinks and moved toward the sunlight. They had been okay with being in the shadows until they saw the light. It was the sun that compelled them to move. It was the expectation of warmth, of greater comfort.
It was in that moment I felt God speak to me. This was the revelation that came.
He's there.
He's in the shadows.
I looked up to the sky and saw clouds moving across the sun. I looked back down at the water my son was splashing around in and saw the light reflect off the waves. The reflection would come and go as the clouds moved across the sun. First brightness, then shadows. But as I watched the sky I realized something. No matter how dark the shadows were on the ground, I could always see the light on the other side of the clouds. In fact, a simple yet life-altering truth occurred to me in that moment. There can be no shadows without light. You know what the definition of a shadow is according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary?
Shadow: a dark shape that appears on a surface when someone or something moves between the surface and a source of light
Shadows only exist because the light is there. Throughout my life and in very recent times I have found myself lost in what I felt was a valley surrounded by "shadows of death." But in that pool side moment God made Himself clear to me. The same way clouds and buildings block out the sun and cause its warmth to disappear momentarily, there are people and things that appear in our lives and would try to keep us from the warmth of God's love. They can try to block the light from showing us the path to follow when making decisions. The shadows can cause us to lose hope, to feel alone, to grow cold. Sometimes the scariest shadows are caused by things we do in our own lives that keep the pure light from shining in. Instead that light is filtered and dim like the sun through a curtain creating monsters out of flowers.
What was revealed to me that day was this. God is always there. Even when problems and people try to block Him out, He's there illuminating in His Glory. It's funny how even on the darkest stormiest days now, I realize that above those clouds, the sun still shines or I wouldn't be able to see anything. Sure it may be darker than normal, but I know the sun is still there. I can see it through the dark clouds. God is there. Even on my dark days. Even when there doesn't seem to be an answer. Even when it seems everything around me is closing in, I've learned to look up. To look through the shadows. I'm not saying it's easy but I can say it's easier. Every time I see a shadow or dark cloud now I smile. I smile because I know the sun is still up there or the shadow wouldn't exist. When problems come and they still come, I'm learning to smile more because I know the Son is still there. There is still light. He is still lighting my path. I'm focusing more on a different part of the that verse now.
Yea, though I walk THROUGH the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear NO evil;
FOR YOU ARE WITH ME;
Your rod and Your staff, they COMFORT me. (Psalms 23:4)
The shadow monsters on the walls turn out to be flowers once you let the light in.
