Some say
the dark night lasts only weeks.
Others,
months.
For me…
it has been years.
I am still walking through the night.
The old comforts are gone.
The signs I once searched for
no longer appear.
The certainty I once leaned upon
has become silence.
And yet…
something holy
is happening beneath the surface.
The darkness
does not mean
I have lost God.
Perhaps it means
God is teaching me
to trust beyond feelings.
Beyond certainty.
Beyond what my eyes can see.
Transformation
is slow..
Quiet.
Like roots growing
beneath frozen ground.
Old fears.
Old attachments.
Old identities.
One by one,
they loosen their grip.
Not because I force them to.
But because surrender
is doing its quiet work.
The silence
is not necessarily absence.
Perhaps it is another language.
One that cannot be heard
with my ears,
only with my soul.
Even the longest nights
have their rhythm.
A quiet knowing.
A single ray of light
finding its way
Perhaps the dark night
is not about losing God.
Perhaps it is about losing
the ways I expected
to find Him.
Until all that remains
is trust.
Simple.
Quiet.
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