A Dark Night of the Soul — Oh Happy Chance!

It’s taken me eight months to write this sentence.  For two and a half years, I spent uncountable hours writing, researching, toiling, and praying through the nearly one hundred pieces I’ve published on The Wine Patch.  The creative rush I experienced while transforming a blinking cursor into meaningful essays was measureless.  But eight months ago, within the swirl of an imperfect storm, I quit.

I first want to say, to the handful of those who’ve written to ask where I’ve been — Thank you.  Your inquiries meant the world to me.

I next want to say to anyone who is struggling with discouragement right now — I understand.  And you will get through it.

As Dennis Prager rightly says:

A major source of unhappiness is unrealistic expectations.

In July 2013, my sister-in-law blurted out to me during a family party, “You are going to write a book, and that book will reach millions!”  I can still see her trembling with excitement as she said it.  I trembled as well because, by that point in my life, I hadn’t even kept a journal.

In October 2020, a man of God came to the prayer room where I led worship.  After a long night of ministry, he peered at me around my music stand and said, “I see writing all over you.  I know you’re the music guy, but you won’t be writing songs.  This will be something entirely different.”

OK, Lord.  You have my attention.

In January 2021, my small business crumpled into a roadside heap and I began collecting unemployment for the first time in my life.  Serendipitously, it was also when I began writing for the first time in my life.

By July 2021, I had posted a handful of articles on my new blog site and was visiting a church community out of state.  While I was there, four separate people whom I had never met randomly prayed for me and blurted, “Whoa, are you a writer?”

As I walked into that church’s Prayer and Worship Room for the first time, an angelic songbird was singing from Revelation, chapter three:  “Write it down.  Write it down.  Send it out and let it run . . .”

As if she was singing directly to me, I can still hear that glorious refrain resound in my soul.

With this type of foundational affirmation and apparent calling, how could I have possibly become discouraged with writing?

Unrealistic Expectations

I have been an intensely goal-oriented person my entire adult life.  From high-altitude mountaineering to stand-up comedy, from Ironman racing to church planting, I have never felt entirely at peace unless I was seizing a BHAG — The Big, Hairy, Audacious, Goal. (Taken from the book, Built to Last).

Yes, the journey through planning, training, building, and performing is enjoyable, but for me, the payoff was standing on the summit, hearing the applause, crossing the finish line, or building a thriving community in Christ.

But after two and a half years of consistent writing, there were no medals, there were no millions, I lost more than a few friends, and my readership was declining.

In April 2023, I was about to turn 60 and my business was still on life-support.  A weight of discouragement settled upon me.  It was a darkish, debilitating, draining burden I had never experienced before.

What is disturbing to admit in hindsight; I let it settle upon me.   

Some well-meaning friends told me it was spiritual warfare and the demons wanted to stop me from writing about the truth.  But a feeling deep down told me that what I was experiencing was something different.

This was between me and My Father.

Throughout my unemployment and continued under-employment, I had said “Yes” to every Kingdom opportunity presented to me.  Door after amazing door was opened before me yet; we still struggle to pay our bills.

Father, you promised, ‘Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.’

Matthew 6:33

I didn’t know how to seek the Kingdom any more than I had been, but “These things” were not being added.  Why?

Despite my positive declarations, I wrestled with why I felt disallowed from receiving increased blessings:

. . . lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.

I Corinthians 9:27

My beloved bride endured months of my complaining.  I would repeatedly speak aloud self-imposed negative confessions like, “I have the anti-Midas touch — Everything I put my hand to amounts to nothing.”

I’m not proud, I’m just being honest.

Genesis chapter 4 tells us that Cain’s offering was insufficient but Abel’s offering was deemed acceptable.  I’ve often wondered:  Did Cain fully understand what was required?  Did he knowingly offer a subpar sacrifice to The Lord or was he possibly doing his best?

The Lord was pleased with Abel and his offering, but with Cain and his offering he was not pleased. So Cain became very angry, and his expression was downcast.

Genesis 4:4,5

The Lord didn’t seem pleased, I became angry, and my gaze was not toward heaven.  So much so, after decades of leading worship a few times every week in various venues, I put my guitar away as well.  Subconsciously, I had become Jonah.  Instead of obeying the call to Nineveh, I quit and hopped on a ship to Tarshish.

I hope to God someone reading this can relate.

From Discouragement to Divine

When Moses died, Joshua felt wholly inadequate to lead his people or please The Lord.  To which, God said:

Do not be dismayed, for I The Lord am with you in all you do.

Joshua 1:9

I believed that my writing would become something significant, yet it seemed to be going nowhere. How is it possible to give your very best to God, yet end up feeling disquieted, disturbed, and detached?

Unrealistic expectations.

The same man of God revisited our prayer room last month.  I reminded him of his poignant word for me three years earlier, what had transpired since, and that I had quit.  His reply was simple:

Who told you that your writing needed to become anything?  You just need to be obedient. Keep writing and leave the results up to The Lord.

It didn’t console the cry of my heart, but I knew he was right.

Soon after, I was at a posh event in New York City where I met a vibrant, extremely successful couple.  After pleasant chatting, she asked if they could pray for me.  I never turn down an opportunity to pray, but keep in mind that I had not shared any of the details of my struggle.

The wife prayed first and I was warmed by her hopeful, affirming words.  Then the husband began to pray:

Keith, I hear the Lord saying, ‘You have the Midas touch.’

An oxygen mask dropped in front of me and I took my first full breath in eight months.

So here I begin again.

Oh, Happy Chance!

In the eternal poem, The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross, the opening stanza may best depict what sojourning through darkened seasons might mean for us.

On a dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings — oh happy chance! —

I went forth without being observed, My house now being at rest.

While each word in this brief stanza is pregnant with volumes of truth and wisdom, here are a few closing observations that are bringing healing to me.

To avoid seasons of the Dark Night is not possible.  And to strive resistantly in the dimly lit shallows is to forfeit naked intimacy with The Beloved.  For when we quiet ourselves in the dark and realize Love Himself is kindling purifying flames, we are arrested by His greatest desire — For the union of Beloved and lover be made perfect.

While Socrates’s dictum is true, the unexamined life is not worth living, likewise, the unobserved life is not possible to live.  This is because our All Observing Creator not only sees all things, but all things are held together in Him. “Where can I flee to escape your presence?” (Psalm 139:7)

As our darkened gaze begins to lift and we sense His pursuing passion, the house where He dwells becomes at rest.  “I in them and you in me — That they may be completely one.” (Jesus to His Father in John 17:23)

I wish I could say these eight months have been a holy time of waiting.  They haven’t.  But as I lift my gaze and behold the loving, unitive nature of Our God, I see this dark night has been so much more than dismay and discouragement.  The Beloved shines in darkness to reveal the glory of His illuminative love.

We too often live in a manner so as to avoid the dark places.  Yet, what was revealed to Jonah during those three dark days inside the fish?  What was revealed to Daniel during that long dark night with the lions?

And what was released throughout all of creation as Jesus first blinked in Joseph’s dark tomb . . .

Oh happy chance!