On the Edge

Anyone who wants to see what dark looks like need only go to Stephen C. Foster State Park in the middle of the Okefenokee Swamp.  This place on the southern border of Georgia defines the word remote in a new way and the park itself is lighted so as not to take away from the darkness.  It is known for its alligators and its very dark night time sky.  But, there are, of course, other kinds of darkness.  Some of those places make this South Georgia state park look like the middle of the day. 

 

The folks who live in the midst of darkness that is spawned by suffering, physical pain, disease, broken marriages, children gone awry, and death itself peer into a terrifying deep darkness.  It is overwhelming, immobilizing, frightening, and without any exit signs.  It is always amazing that the Scripture calls us to "...give thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything...."  (Ephesians 5:20)  The Apostle Paul seemed to have figured out how to live in such a way, but for most of us it seems impossible.

 

How can we find things for which to be thankful when our life is falling apart around us?  One way might be to look not at the heart of the darkness, but to look first toward the edge of the darkness.  On the edge of the darkness we can see the coming of caring friends, the hopeful words they bring, and the reminders that we have not been forgotten.  And as we start seeing things on the edge of the darkness for which we can be thankful, we may be at a place where we can let our eyes move slowly away from the edge and closer to the place of the deep darkness.  Along the way our heart may be able to show us still other things for which to be thankful even though the darkness is still heavy upon us.