Sitting in Darkness

According to Miriam Webster hope is "a desire accompanied by expectation of fulfillment". 

From the blinding brilliance of the brightest dawn to the deepest darkness of night God's people have never been without hope. With that being said, "What misery is mine!" (Micah 7:1). Micah may not seem the obvious choice when studying hope, but life often doesn't go the way we plan, expect, or hope. 

There is no thing or person of this world able to fully satisfy, understand, or meet our deepest needs. The most difficult days may seem our loneliest as we feel misunderstood by people whom we thought could be relied upon. We may find there are those who cannot be counted as "safe" to be raw or vulnerable with our humanity, pain, conflict, grief: our misery. Micah seems to have an understanding of this in Chapter Seven. There's a sorrow in that: an unmet expectation. 

The context of Micah is found in sin and repentance, but there are shadows of sorrow in that process too- heavy ones. Is it not the sorrow, the misery over our sin, that leads believers to repentance? The application also seems much broader as well. Perhaps that's due to the lens I now cannot help but read scripture through or perhaps this is a grace of scripture. As I read verses 1-6 I am reminded I cannot put my hope in the comfort of other people or things. Things would seem hopeless if we were to stop here, but Micah does not leave us in the misery of preceding verses. 

"BUT as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior, my God will hear me" (verse 7). When you connect the "but" of verse 7 to the "misery" of verse 1 thus begins the anticipation of hope. Our God is El Roi- the God who sees. He is Elohim Shama- the God who hears. As we too "watch in hope" we can remember he is Jehovah Shammah- the Lord is there. He is there; even in the darkest days of misery. 

We can know he sees, hears, and fully understands the cries of our hearts when no one else can. He has the right to judge all our raw emotions, as well as our sinful initial responses brought forth in those emotions- yet he seems so much more than that. He knows our hearts and offers an otherworldly mercy and tenderness. Tenderness: might we often be longing for that in our darkest misery? 

We often fall whether by our own doing or by an unexpected blow. As we sit there in tears, injured and broken, darkness also falls upon us. Heavy. There's nothing within us to chase away the darkness. Micah knows something about sitting in darkness. "Though I sit in darkness..." (verse 8). Pull out a chair my friend. The darkness may be lengthy. We may sit here for a while.

Some darkness may be flickering, provoking a huge sigh of relief. Some darkness lasts a little longer, requiring a sojourn through. Some darkness though is so heavy we dare not move lest we tumble over a precipice. So we sit, but we do not sit without hope because, "the Lord will be my light" (verse 8). His light pushes the edge of darkness away. His light comforts me while I sit. I do not have to fear the dark- though every ounce of my physical body screams otherwise. This darkness is not complete. It is not final. He is Jehovah Shammah- even in my darkness.  

"Though I have fallen, I will rise" (verse 8). Sometimes we must sit a while in the darkness as our wounds stabilize. When I'm ready (I use that term loosely), limping and perhaps a little less lame, His light will lead me out. It may be a long journey; perhaps even lasting the rest of my life, but it is not a hopeless one. I cannot take my eyes off the light lest I fall again. There will be incremental healing with each new step. The limp may lighten. I may seem a little less lame from the outside, but this lameness, this limp? It will not fully give way until I step into the fullness of the light of eternity. It is there my desires and expectations will be met in the fullest of measure and the wounds brought forth in darkness are healed. There is my hope. 

While the radiant luster of hope is constant and never diminished, we often perceive it most clearly, most brightly when we have been called to sit in darkness.