“Faithfulness opens the door to the spiritual insight that it is not the amount of darkness in the world or in us that is crucial. In the end, it is how we stand in that darkness that really matters. Moreover, sometimes it is paradoxically during faithfulness in the darkness, not in the light, that we may see what is true and dear at a deeper level.” (Robert J. Wicks, Everyday Simplicity: A Practical Guide to Spiritual Growth)

Here we go again. Dark thoughts, anxious thoughts, circle like vultures every time I sit down to relax. They plague me when I try to fall asleep, wake me in the early hours of the morning, keep me tossing and turning.

In five short months, Joel will move from our home to Safe Haven Farms. How the house will echo, empty, when he goes! All of our little routines – puff! Gone! No more creak of bed springs in the early morning. No more bedroom doors opening in the middle of the night, a sleepy voice declaring, “I’m tired!” No more toilet lid crashing in the bathroom overhead as I drink my morning tea. No more breakfast together, lunch preparations, bedtime oatmeal, Mr. Bean.

The vultures widen their circle. Who will cover him up when he kicks off his covers at night? Who will make sure he gets his socks on right, so they don’t bunch up at the toes? Who will laugh at his silly jokes? Who will help him say his prayers at night?

The circle of darkness widens and grows. Joel’s kyphosis is getting worse. Should we pursue surgery, even though we know how devastating it will be to his emotional state? What about Joel’s big brother Matt? Why hasn’t he moved home yet? How can we help him? What about Justin and Elizabeth? Will they choose to have children? And how about my health? Why do I keep getting sick? Am I doing too much? Not enough? Should I follow through on this book proposal? Why haven’t I found an agent yet? Will my first novel, Starcatcher, ever get published?

The vultures spiral wider and wider, threatening to carry me away on their updraft. I cry out to God. “Lord, I can’t do this any longer. Take it – take my fear and worry and anxiety before they suck my life away.”

Open your eyes, God answers. Look – really look – at all that surrounds you. Enjoy Joel’s presence, right now. Watch the steam rise up from your cup of tea. Savor the sunrise. Stay awake to my presence – I am always here, waiting to meet you. Even in the darkness. Especially in the darkness.

Suddenly I am reminded of a moment last week when Joel and I stood in line at Hollywood Video, waiting to pay for a DVD. I was aware of the man and woman behind us. Staring openly at Joel, they whispered to one another. My face reddened and my hands clenched. How rude, I thought. I turned my back on them, staring out the front window instead, considering what I’d say to them if I had enough nerve. Joel interrupted my dark thoughts by putting both hands on my shoulders. He turned my face toward his and stared into my eyes. Look at me, his eyes insisted. I love you.

Look at me, God says. I love you. I am waiting, even in your darkness, to meet you. Open your eyes.