Have you heard the term "the dark night of the soul"? There’s no question our dark night of the soul was that awful afternoon. But this dark night didn’t end with the sunrise. It stretched into days, weeks, and months and then the calendar turned a year. Though that darkest night is behind us, and we seen the sun peeking through broken clouds, the skies won't ever be as blue as they once were.

You know those spring days in Colorado when the weather pretends it’s going to be warm all day. You go sit with a good book in the sunshine, desperate for some vitamin D after a long, cold winter. But as soon as you feel the sun on your face and settle in, a large cloud covers the sun, and suddenly it’s too cold to be outside. That’s life after losing Julian. Just when I think I’m doing okay, the dark clouds roll in and camp out.

The other day, we went to renew our pool fobs for the local pool. Every couple of years, you have to do that to have access to the pool facilities. I filled out the form with everyone’s names but Julian's and turned it in. I knew the attendant was going to ask about it. Maybe she thought I had forgotten one name. She was just doing her job, but Wesley and Bella were with me, and I was hoping she wouldn’t ask. But she did. “Would you like to renew Julian’s this year too?” “No, thank you.”

Being at the pool and seeing all the kids around 14 or 15 brought a flood of memories…his antics, his smile, his laughter, his asking for money for a soda and Takis from the machine. These are the dark clouds. I can sometimes see them coming, but they still often take me by surprise.

I could stay home to try to avoid these memories. I could avoid everything that I know will be painful, but the pain will be there regardless, and life must go on. When I face the hard head-on, though painful, it somehow loses its power over me. I acknowledged the pain, gave it to God, and enjoyed the pool despite the crowds. I look around and wondered who else showed up to have fun despite a hole in their heart.

It's during these dark clouds that lament comes in. Lament is my place between confusion and trust. Lament invites me to take that confusion and all my grievances to God. Because of lament, I don’t bury the pain. I can show up for the hard and painful, and also for the fun because I know life isn’t one or the other. God isn’t bothered by my complaints when I take them to Him with humility. I still wonder where God was on that awful afternoon. Believe me, I’ve asked, and I’ve complained. But then I fight to trust God’s promises, that He is good, and He has a plan. I tell Him that's it's a fight to do so. He told me that He already knows.

In his book, “Dark Clouds. Deep Mercy,” the author says, “Lament is the language of a people who believe in God’s sovereignty but live in a world with tragedy.” It’s a “song that you sing believing that one day God will answer and restore.”

What do you need to show up for today? What hard thing do you need to face head on so that it loses its power over you? I encourage you to join me in taking the difficult questions and the complaints to the One who hears and can lighten our burdens. The only One who can make the sun shine in the middle of our dark clouds.

Happy almost summer.

Xo
Dawn