When Dark Is Light

Each part of a church service has a special significance, but the children’s sermon is one of my favorites.

On a recent Sunday, our pastor was doing a good job describing Jesus as the Light of the world when one of the children, age four, raised his hand. Having just heard all about the Light, he felt it was important to add something. “My favorite color is dark.”

Most pastors are good at handling this kind of spontaneity, especially when it comes from a child. After acknowledging the comment, Pastor Jay smoothly moved his words from darkness back to light.

That afternoon at home I was still chuckling over the morning’s comment when I remembered our first grandchild, Skylar, who would have appreciated that unprompted addition to the children’s sermon.

When she was only three (left), her Auntie Weezi asked her a question most kids love to answer. “Sky, what’s your favorite color?”

Skylar answered without even looking up. “Black.”

Most little girls are into pink and purple, but each child is allowed to have their own favorite. Skylar’s unusual choice gave us all a good giggle that day.

My next-door-neighbor, Linda, told me that when she was a child walking home in the dark, she was never afraid. Instead she looked into the inky blackness around her and thought about the interesting things that might be hidden in the darkness – good things. She probably would have nodded in agreement to the favorites of dark and black.

Some of my widowed friends (including me) have experienced the opposite perspective on darkness. After becoming widows, we might find our imaginations allowing fear to creep in, uninvited. This is when we need to turn to God to get his opinion. He created darkness as well as light and surely isn’t biased against either one.

His explanation to me has been that the black of night is not the problem. Rather it’s the fear. And fear is never, he says, from him. It’s a tool of the devil who uses it to knock us off balance emotionally. God tells us there’s no darkness in him at all (1 John 1:5) and that he’s not afraid of it. As a matter of fact, darkness looks light to him (Psalm 139:12). The only darkness that should concern us is spiritual darkness – not knowing the truth of salvation.

As for fearing the black of night, it might help to spend more time hanging around those youngsters who love both black and dark.

“For you are my lamp, O Lord, and the Lord will lighten my darkness.” (2 Samuel 22:29)

The Reveal

It was last Memorial Day when we had our first inkling that a new baby was coming. Linnea had flown from Florida to Michigan to attend her sister Birgitta’s wedding open house. And as we ran errands together, she surprised us with her lovely secret – that another baby would be joining us in January.

Fast-forward to summer when the 26 members of our family were together in Michigan. Linnea’s pregnancy had passed its half way mark, and she and Adam had learned the baby’s gender. Much to our happiness, they wanted to share it with us all. 

We planned a Reveal Party after dinner with a special dessert: a cake with either pink or blue frosting in the middle. Only the two parents knew what was inside.

Throughout the day the 12 grandchildren, ages 10 and under, eagerly anticipated the announcement. Boy or girl? Which team?

As the hours went by, the children shared their hopes with each other… boys rooting for blue frosting, girls for pink. And when the moment came, Linnea cut a plump piece of cake and lifted it to reveal — it was pink!

The girls broke into squeals of delight, the boys stood silent, and the adults got a good chuckle over both responses. But pretty quickly the 12 kids shifted from gender-focus to cake-focus. The rest of us, though, were thankful for a glimpse of what God was doing within Linnea, excited to know a little something about who he was creating.

It was God’s idea to establish 9 months as the time it would take for him to make a baby. Of course he could do this intricate work in an instant, but he chooses to take his time. Maybe it’s similar to the way he formed the first human from clay. I wonder how long he took on that project. My guess is…. 9 months.

These days God still takes his time forming babies inside their mothers. I like to think he enjoys the long, complicated process during that time when only he holds the secrets to who he’s working on.

Fast forward to January and the birth of our May Evangeline. At the time of the Reveal Party, we were thrilled to learn one fact about her: that she would be a girl. Now the whole of her has been revealed, and we know all kinds of things–-her name, the circumstances of her birth, what she looks like, and that she’s easy-going. But just think about how much God knows about her.

He sees her life stretched out from beginning to end and knows every emotion she’ll experience, what she’ll look like as an adult, who her friends will be, what interests she’ll have, whether or not she’ll marry or become a mother, and everything else about her.

But though God sees it all, his Reveal Parties of new information will happen  only one day at a time. He has revealed one long-term fact about little May, though — that he hopes she’ll always trust him to take care of the life he’s given her.  

“It was You who created my inward parts. I was made in secret.” (Psalm 139:13,15)

Nine Years Ago Today

Today, September 22, is the 9th anniversary of the day Nate and I learned of his fatal cancer. He’d been bothered by severe back pain for 7 months and was scheduled for surgery when pre-op tests told a different story.

After that appointment at a Chicago hospital, we pointed our mini-van toward the peace and quiet of our Michigan home. As I drove, Nate used the time to call each of his 7 children to tell them personally what we’d just learned. As emotionally draining as that job was, he wanted each of them to hear it directly from him.

Normal life came to a screeching halt that day as we tried to absorb the shock. No one knew what was going to happen, but all agreed it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

*          *              *              *              *             *              *              *             *              *

Recently I came across a paper with Nate’s handwriting on it, something I don’t often see these days. It was the first page in a blank book, dated 9/22/09. He had titled it, “Journal of Willard Nyman.” *

In less than 20 words his first entry summarized the dreadful truth:

Sept. 22, 2009The Dr told me I have [metastasizing] pancreatic cancer today. Thought it was back problem all the time.

In those words I could hear his grave disappointment but also a measure of acceptance. Though Nate had hoped to write down his thoughts as he journeyed through cancer, he never had the chance. The daily pace moved too fast for that. This first entry was his last.

Because September 22 has come around 9 times now, I find myself thinking back without tears. Though I miss Nate every hour of every day, God’s healing of my heart has taken away the pain of remembering.

Now when I go back to that time, I think of the many ways God was on the move. On September 22, when we’d all agreed nothing good could possibly happen after the diagnosis, we had been wrong.

M and N, Aug. 09God pulled our attention toward him on every one of those 42 days by causing unusual things to happen in and around us. He proved how very close he was and sustained us by sprinkling blessings over each day’s harsh circumstances. And God is willing to partner like that with every person through grievous situations. He sustains us, rescues us, and is so close he can even carry us.

The Lord said, “I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” (Isaiah 46:4b)

* Nate’s real name: Willard Nathan Nyman (Photo taken 8/22/09)