"Lord, how can we bear it?"
When power fails, evil rises, and hope faints...
Lord, we sit tonight still beneath the remnant of a winter storm that has lingered too long.
Some are reading by generator light, and some are reading only by the glow of their small screens held up against the darkness. Some are reading in their cars, in shelters, or in strange hotels. Home are cold, businesses dark, churches encased in ice.
But this gathered darkness is more than simply the absence of physical light.
It is a darkness visible. A darkness deep. A darkness felt.
Our screens do not offer up glimpses of hope tonight, but only serve to make the darkness appear more vast and for each of us to feel more alone.
Corruption, abuse, misuses of power on every side.
Violence in the world, in our country, in our hometowns.
Senseless cruelty, unchecked rage, bitterness of soul.
Children hurt, the weak harmed, the poor mistreated.
Sickness abroad, schools damaged, homes destroyed.
Values abandoned, grace withheld, anger vented.
Joys deferred, blessings lost, families grieving.
Hearts broken. Spirits crushed. Lives taken.
These horrors are the realities we live. They are the stories we repeat. They are the scenes our own eyes have witnessed.
Lord, how can we bear it?
How can we choose to believe when cruelty reigns? How can we not give way to despair and cynicism in this moment when all goodness seems lost?
We add our voices to the ancient lament, “Who will show us any good?”
How can we hope when hope seems foolish? How can we continue in the face of such a wicked world? How can we face tomorrow when the darkness is so deep tonight?
In our own strength, we can’t.
And if all we have is an abstract, disembodied feeling of less-than-total-dread, how could we face the brutal aching we feel deep within?
We cannot lean into our own goodness for we have no light in ourselves to lift up into this vast black grief of the world.
Yet we know we are not the first to see such times.
We remember the suffering of Your people: in history, in our world today, and in our own experiences. We can bring to our minds the stories and memories of the hurts, the longings, and the sighs of every person who has lost someone or has lost themselves to the darkness.
We know that Your peaceable kingdom is never welcomed with peace when it stands in opposition to the powers that serve to corrupt our world, our communities, our churches, and our own hearts. There have always been forces that have sought to stand against the light and against the blessings You seek to share with the world.
We know You have seen darkness before.
Darkness at the beginning of all created things. Darkness before the deliverance from bondage. Darkness at midday on a hill far away.
And You spoke into the darkness.
And You entered into the darkness.
And You died in the darkness.
And all we can see from where we stand is that darkness appears to win the day, and yet beyond our sight by faith we believe the Light is still shining and the darkness has not, cannot, and will not overcome it.
Though evil may love the darkness, the light will reveal all. The light moves over every life and exposes the secret things, and in Your time, the fruits of each life will be revealed. Give us the courage to expose our hearts to the cleansing purity of Your light. Help us to judge our own hearts in the light of Your truth.
Allow us strength to resist the darkness, to abandon its easy pull toward cruelty and hate, and to instead embrace the call to live here and now as children of light.
Light is the only presence that dispels darkness. We never overcome darkness by becoming darker still.
You are the true Light, and You are already shining. We will never find any genuine light that does not originate in You. Do not let us be satisfied with lesser glories. Do not let us be tricked by promises of other sources of power, healing, or illumination.
We look around, and we are blinded to any good by the depth of the dark. You know our weaknesses, our limitations, our attentions placed upon our own suffering.
Remind us now, in the midst of our hurting, that we will never find any lasting light by looking away from You.
Let us look to Your light. Let us move toward it. Let us live as light for one another.
Give us courage in the depths of our darkness tonight, and let us look with longing for the certain coming of the dawn.
We pray this in the name of Jesus, the Light who overcomes all darkness, amen.
Powerful. Thank you for putting words on our lament.
The repetition of darkness throughout this prayer builds a weight that makes the turn toward light feel earned rather than easy. I've sat in rooms where the power was out and felt that same dislocation you describe. What stands out is the refusal to pretend ligth is simple or that darkness is purely metaphorical when people are actually cold and isolated.