With the final days of summer upon us and a thick blanket of darkness lingering in the atmosphere, we may be left with more questions than answers. God, are you still there?
It is during our darkest moments that our faith is challenged as we struggle to find a framework for understanding it all. As a teacher, I have always looked forward to the summer as a time of renewal, relaxation and (above all) a season to set my inner muse free to run wild, scrawling my hopes and dreams across journal pages with full abandon. Yet something about this summer was different. VERY. VERY. PAINFULLY. DIFFERENT. Disappointment was an unwelcome summer guest as I lost my bid on a property that I desperately needed just before my son endured a debilitating knee injury at work.
What we had hoped might be just be a short season of "adventure into the unknown" or "cave exploration" became a "new normal" of adapting our collective consciousness to living as "cave dwellers." As any cave dweller worth their salt knows, it is not easy to turn your eyes towards the sun after a protracted period of darkness and isolation. In fact, it requires protective eyewear and a very intentional plan for emerging unscathed. Cave dwellers lose all sense of time and urgency without the external signals that they rely upon for context in their daily lives. Sleep becomes a soothing escape from brutal reality; time stands still. There are no birds singing melodiously nor wind softly caressing their faces, but there is freedom from demands. The cave becomes a resting place and a refuge from the storm.
So why mention caves at all? I live in South Florida and my only memory of a cave was in Ruby Falls, Tennessee. I still remember the cold and damp sensation as we descended twenty-six stories underground. The absence of light and stimulation initially creates a real sense of panic that eventually gives way to resignation. While it was a beautiful once-in-a-lifetime vacation experience, I did not sign up to take residence in a cave. I am guessing that you didn't either. Yet here we are. AGAIN. My brother's recent death and my father's current hospitalization have not caught The Lord off guard for a second, yet for me, it was a sucker punch to the heart. My best laid plans did not pan out and I felt a sense of total depletion.
During the most challenging seasons, we need to shed the non-essential. When animals hibernate, they don't require nourishment. In fact, they barely breathe. Yet this merciful time of "lockdown" is actually their saving grace. When Noah and his family were in the ark during the most deadly flood in human history, it probably felt like a floating cave. Yet the human race continued because they chose to submit even when the outcome was unclear. Times of quarantine can squeeze us like a vice, leaving only that of purest substance behind. Be gentle with yourself and travel lightly as you move into depths unknown. Caves can be very disorienting and lonely places, and emotional clutter will only weigh you down.
If 2020 and 2021 have taught us anything thus far, it is to be ready to pivot at a moment's notice. Caves are infamous for their hidden dangers like falling rocks, so it is a good idea to keep your head protected. The Bible reminds us to wear the helmet of salvation, and the Word of God is a light that never grows dim, regardless of the daunting surroundings. Whether we are scaling the highest mountain or barely surviving in a shadowy cave, WE WILL experience uneven ground. Maintaining a close relationship with God (our partner) guarantees sure footing and stability, just like an anchor secures the boat in stormy seas.
Some of us are experiencing "cabin fever" and can't wait to bounce back into action and live our best lives. Here's the thing: Even scuba divers know that emerging from the depths requires calculation. Ascending too quickly is extremely dangerous (because of nitrogen gas expanding in the body) and causes not only decompression sickness or paralysis, but also the very real risk of death. We should take our cue from the butterfly that slowly emerges from the chrysalis. New wings take time to dry and harden, becoming stable enough to permit flight. The butterfly emerges weak, wrinkled and dried out, but then it removes the piece covering its eyes and waits to gain strength before making a glorious exit skyward. Without a cave, there would be no stone to roll away. Jesus emerged victorious. So will you!
You have made me see hard times: I’ve experienced many miserable days,
but You will restore me again. You will raise me up from the deep pit.
Psalm 71:20 The Voice
I hadn't really thought about it, but I think my cave has become my refuge, my protection from evil, sickness, sin. It is a false reality, but comfortable. Soon I will have to emerge and it is nice to be reminded to take it slowly and to hold on tightly to the only hand that can help you do so successfully. Thank you for your insight and we will overcome the dangers together.