Seekers in the Dark
With Oldest Brother at the Grand Canyon, 2013. Backyard Studios
Not sure what gave us the inspiration, but over a decade ago Oldest Brother and I decided we’d walk to church everyday instead of drive his car. Save us on gas, we thought.
So early every morning found two walkers, backpacks strapped on, making our way along sidewalks and grassy areas and across a four-lane highway, covering the mile-and-a-half distance in as short amount of time as possible. He made his backpack heavier than mine as he was trying to train for a hike on a missionary trip in Haiti. We were rather proud of ourselves when we got our morning walk down to nineteen minutes.
In the dark and in the cold we walked. Sometimes I’d eat my lunch sandwich on the walk home since I didn’t take a lunch break at school.
It was a relatively easy thing to do since we were in it together. We could talk and walk ourselves through this dark season, those dark mornings.
I think of some other guys that set out on a journey in the dark, camels or horses or donkeys or whatever beast they decided to laden down with the gifts they brought for the King. The journey wasn’t lonely, though it might have been dark.
They were seekers together.
We don’t know if there were two men or twenty, we just know that there was more than one of them. And they set out in the dark to seek Him.
And I remember some startled shepherds on a grassy hillside, keeping watch over their bleating, wandering sheep. After those angels left them and they discussed the news, they left their flock to find Him.
We don’t know if there were two shepherds or twenty, we just know that there was more than one of them. And they set out in the dark to seek Him.
Joshua Tree Desert, Palmdale, California. Backyard Studios.
Corrie ten Boom, that woman who helped save 800 Jews during the Holocaust once said, “The devil smiles when we make plans. He laughs when we get too busy. But he trembles when we pray — especially when we pray together.”
Don’t know about you, but I’m sensing some dark days right now. In the middle of the end of this whirlwind we know as 2020, this year when we’ve all accumulated a bit of unspoken broken. Right here in this holiday season when everything is busy and to-do lists are clamoring for my attention, I keep going to the church on purpose to seek Him.
There’ve been many times when I’ve sought Him alone there in that dark sanctuary (that’s actually been my preference over these last 18 months). My daily prayer walk has been the bedrock of my days and the fabric of my daily rhythm. But here at the end of 2020, I’ve been seeking Him alongside others. Like the shepherds looking for a baby swaddled in bandages, I’ve sought Him with friends and family, sought Him to swaddle the hurts and sorrows I see around me. Like the wise men who brought precious oil, I’ve sought His spirit as the salve that pours out on a broken world and heals what’s wrong.
My sister is home for these holidays. Every day she’s been getting on a video chat with a friend of hers half-a-dozen states away as they do a workout together. Separated by 1,737 miles of highway, together they’re moving towards fitness and that simple act of doing it together makes the strain a little lighter.
I encourage you to find someone to join with you in prayer. Meet in your home or in your sanctuary or on the phone, but seek Him in the dark, and seek Him together.
More than ever we need each other. More than ever we need to seek Him for His swaddling mercies and soothing oil and for the Presence that convicts and cradles and sets free.
Let’s seek Him together in the dark.
“The devil smiles when we make plans. He laughs when we get too busy. But he trembles when we pray — especially when we pray together.”
Note: no one was hurt while hiking the Grand Canyon at sunrise. Photos taken with Martin Barnard in 2013 in Arizona and California, thanks to my sister Jonelle Hill.