I’m overwhelmed by the pain and uncertainty so many of our friends are going through right now, not to mention our own.

The picture I’ve had for my own life for years has been of walking into a dark room. There’s no telling what’s there, how big the room is, or where it will lead. Just darkness.

As bad as I want to know the answer to “where will this lead?”, I think the dark room was never meant to lead to some other end, but is the end itself.

The dark room is life. Full of uncertainty, unexpected turns, and unlimited chances to fear… or to trust.

To me, this has become my picture of living: To not be afraid. To trust. To rest. To embrace uncertainty and not run from it. To live fully and gracefully, even in the midst of darkness and death.

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me.”

While this all seems to be occurring to me as I type, I remember these lyrics from a song I wrote years ago. I pray this can be the posture of my family and our friends and of myself as we attempt to live fully and gracefully inside the dark room:

“When darkness falls and I can’t see, when I am blind your hand is over me… When the road is long, when all hope is gone, in our suffering we will rest in You.”

In our suffering