Do you remember what shadows looked like when you were a child, lying in bed at night?
The jacket over the chair became a man. The branch outside became a claw.
Nothing could actually hurt you. But the shadows were bigger than the things themselves, and that's why they were frightening.
We grow up, but the shadows come with us. They just go by other names now.
Fifth Tuesday in From Stressed to Blessed. Today, about what we all go through: the valleys.
We all walk through valleys.
Sometimes it's the valley of death, when we lose someone we love. But it can just as easily be the valley of debt. The valley of conflict. The valley of doubt, or the valley of hitting bottom.
Loss belongs to life, and no one gets around it.
David doesn't hide it away:
"Even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I have nothing to fear, for you walk by my side; your shepherd's staff protects me." (Ps 23:4)
Notice that one word: shadow. It's not there by accident.
A shadow can't do you any harm. A truck can run you over, but the truck's shadow does nothing to you.
And shadows are always bigger than the thing that casts them. That's why fear so often becomes worse than the thing itself.
We spend more energy on the dread of what might happen than on what actually happens.
And here's the good news hidden in the word itself. There is no shadow without a light. A shadow is proof that the light is there.
If you don't want to be afraid in the valley, then don't stare at the shadow. You have to turn around and look toward the light.
As long as your eyes rest on the light, the shadow can't frighten you. And Jesus says of himself that he is the light of the world.
David prayed like this when he was under the greatest pressure, hiding from a king who wanted to kill him:
"When I am discouraged and ready to give up, you show me the way I should go." (Ps 142:3)
There's a rest in that. You don't have to know all the answers. You only have to know the one who does.
When you're ready to give up, he knows what you should do.
It's also worth saying that fear and grief are not the same thing.
The Bible never says don't grieve or don't cry. Grief is healthy. It's how we get through our losses.
But fear paralyzes us, and that's why it says do not fear again and again in Scripture.
Grief you're allowed to make room for. Fear you should turn your back on, by turning toward the light.
So if you're standing in a valley right now, try it. Don't stare at the darkness. Lift your eyes to Jesus, one day at a time, and keep walking.
Which valley are you walking through these days — and what would it change to turn toward the light?
What has helped you through a dark time? Feel free to write it in the comments.
The shadow is big. The light is bigger. Keep walking.
Kan du huske, hvordan skygger så ud, når du var barn og lå i din seng om aftenen?
Jakken over stolen blev til en mand. Grenen udenfor blev til en klo.
Ingenting kunne egentlig gøre dig noget. Men skyggerne var større end tingene selv, og derfor var de skræmmende.
Vi bliver voksne, men skyggerne følger med. De hedder bare noget andet nu.
Femte tirsdag i Fra stresset til velsignet. I dag om det, vi alle kommer igennem: dalene.
Vi går alle gennem dale.
Nogle gange er det dødens dal, når vi mister en, vi elsker. Men det kan lige så godt være gældens dal. Konfliktens dal. Tvivlens eller nedturens dal.
Tab hører livet til, og ingen slipper udenom.
David gemmer det ikke væk:
"Skal jeg end vandre gennem dødsskyggens dal, har jeg dog intet at frygte, for du går ved min side, din hyrdestav beskytter mig." (Sl 23,4 — BPH)
Læg mærke til det ene ord: skygge. Det er ikke tilfældigt.
En skygge kan ikke gøre dig fortræd. En lastbil kan køre dig ned, men lastbilens skygge gør dig ingenting.
Og skygger er altid større end det, der kaster dem. Det er derfor, frygten så tit bliver værre end selve tingen.
Vi bruger mere energi på angsten for det, der kunne ske, end på det, der faktisk sker.
Og her er den gode nyhed, som ligger gemt i selve ordet. Der findes ingen skygge uden et lys. En skygge er beviset på, at lyset er der.
Vil du ikke være bange i dalen, så skal du ikke stirre på skyggen. Du skal vende dig om og se mod lyset.
Så længe dine øjne hviler på lyset, kan skyggen ikke skræmme dig. Og Jesus siger om sig selv, at han er verdens lys.
David bad sådan her, da han var allermest presset og gemte sig for en konge, der ville slå ham ihjel:
"Når jeg er modløs og opgivende, viser du mig den vej, jeg skal gå." (Sl 142,4 — BPH)
Der er en hvile i det. Du behøver ikke kende alle svarene. Du skal bare kende ham, der gør.
Når du er klar til at give op, ved han, hvad du skal gøre.
Det er også værd at sige, at frygt og sorg ikke er det samme.
Bibelen siger aldrig sørg ikke eller græd ikke. Sorg er sund. Det er sådan, vi kommer igennem tabene.
Men frygt lammer os, og derfor står der frygt ikke igen og igen i Skriften.
Sorgen må du gerne give plads. Frygten skal du vende ryggen til, ved at vende dig mod lyset.
Så hvis du står i en dal lige nu, så prøv det. Stir ikke på det mørke. Løft blikket mod Jesus, én dag ad gangen, og gå videre.
Hvilken dal går du igennem for tiden — og hvad ville det ændre at vende dig mod lyset?
Hvad har hjulpet dig gennem en mørk tid? Skriv det gerne i kommentarfeltet.
Skyggen er stor. Lyset er større. Gå videre.
More reflections on faith, fear and everyday life.Flere refleksioner om tro, frygt og hverdagsliv.
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