It’s Time to Talk about the Valleys

“You led me to the mountain top just to watch me get knocked off – bumps and bruises, paralyzing, numbing.

I hit rock bottom. No transition. No journey down from the valley. Why am I here in this pit? Hurting, numb, in a haze? I know You’ll come for me. But why. Why am I here? Why the drastic drop from consolation to desolation?

 Anger rising, darkness pressing…” (6-15-25)

Our spiritual journeys are a combination of seasons, of ups and downs, periods of consolation and desolation, the mountains and the valleys. Usually, my seasons can be marked by external events that launch me into joyous peaks or depleting troughs. This trough has been the hardest one yet. Mostly because the external events have passed, but my interior life is still shaken. I’ve been rereading my journal entries for this year and wow…yikes…hallelujah…and ouch. So many cool pieces of writing that have come out of my valleys and so much wisdom God has shared in sealing me in His hope. (I’ll be sharing these for my next written series about God in the valleys.) Sometimes, because I “know” all the right answers when it comes to our spiritual life, like, I know I am never alone, I know He will come for me, I know without a shadow of a doubt that He is a Good, Good Father. I know Love wins. But I also feel. I feel deeply, and because I feel deeply, I’ve been learning to allow my feelings to speak, too, because only then can Truth truly cover it.

 So, it’s time. It’s time to talk about the valleys. That it’s okay to trust God but also feel abandonment. It’s okay to love Him and also be angry at Him. It’s okay to break, to fail, and to need a Savior. If my valleys had a voice, this is what they’d say…

 “Good morning, Jesus, my heart is really hurting. I’m constantly put in this position of questioning the intentions of those closest to me or those surrounding me. Lord, please expose my enemies. My chest hurts. All the love and hope and trust I’ve poured into the staff and girls. Last year it was betrayals from the girls, this year it’s the staff. The fear of allowing others to get too close to me is resurfacing. I want to crawl back into my wall. I want to push them away. “I can do it myself, then. I’ll just do it myself.” Comes flooding in.” -3-18-25

 “O rock of Ages, I need you. I feel so defeated and overwhelmed by his nastiness and lies, even to the police officer about me and the police seemed to believe him! Lord, speak! Pierce through the dark. I am hurt and sad at his relentless bullying.” -3-20-25

 “Wow, God, fasting has transformed me into your vessel, allowing Heaven to use me and not the other way around. Today was hard but beautiful. My body was physically battling, shaking with anger and hurt, feelings of disappointment and confusion, yet knowing with a deep clarity what I had to do – Trust you.” -3-19-25

 “Another one left. The girls are surprised at how calm I’ve been through this. That’s all You, not me. I feel a bit lost, though. Like I’m floating, not grounded. Please anchor me, and help me sleep in Jesus’ Name.” -5-30-25

 “It’s been over a week after she ran away, my body yet to shed a tear. The color of this moment – ocean-floor blue – dark and dangerous.”  -6-1-25

 “I don’t know what you expect me to do? How can I keep showing up in a place where it feels like people don’t show up for me? You expect me to come with a smile, to show up even when I’m crushed because that’s what I do – I show up even when it’s hard. The moment I fail, the moment I show weakness, the moment I make a mistake, I’m written off… Am I expected to be perfect? To not flinch? To not break?

-6-8-15   To be fake?

“I am a porcelain doll

Chosen for hope of perfection

But at first sign of blemish

...rejection

...they tire of me

...Still, I bleed”

 

“What is this madness, this storm, this chaos, this Judas?” -6-15-25

 

“Jesus, come and get me. The darkness is closing in. Mocking, beckoning, sardonic. Hitting the mark.”

Sometimes I wish my internal season of temporary darkness was external. Because I feel like those are more easily solved. Like, if I were on crutches and had to see a physical therapist to recover, I wouldn’t have to explain why I can’t walk – people would just see the cast and the crutches and know. Maybe they would see and help. Maybe they’d send Get Well Soon cards and recovery gestures. Not that anyone wants sympathy in a season of valley, but at least when it’s physical, there are measured goals of growth and recovery. There is somewhat of a timeline and a context. Not so with the interior life. How do you explain to someone two months later, you’re still not okay? How do you explain it to yourself? How do you measure growth in the valleys? The ebbs and flows are so inconsistent in these places and often times it is dark and lonely even though you’re not alone. What God has been showing me in this season is to stop trying to manipulate my external circumstances, aka my healing, and just allow Him to work even in the haze. After all, my Best Friend glows in the dark. Darkness is not dark to Him. And that’s what I cling to in the valleys. And I hope this encourages you if you’re in a season of valleys, too.

 What better companion to have in the valley than the One who can see through it all. He may not tell you everything, but He sees, He knows the way out, so just keep holding His hand.  

Even When

I love you, not only because You're Good

I love You when you're distant

and when it feels like You've abandoned me.

I love You when you're silent

and when you're hard to understand.

I love You when dreams break 

and healing seems hard to reach.

I love You when I'm angry and empty

and darkness settles in, and I'm still alone.

I love You when You bless those arounds me

even if I am without.

I love You when I see miracles performed for others

even if my prayers are left unanswered. 

I will love You anyway.

You see, I love You not for what you do,

but for Who You Are.

I love You because you are my Savior, 

You left the 99 for me.

I love You because you are my Good, Good Father,

and You have set me free. 

I love You because You are my Best Friend

and You have never forsaken me. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

I love you, child, not only because you're good

I love you when you're distant

and when it feels like you don't want Me.

I love You when you're silent

or when you demand "to know" instead of understand.

I love You when My Heart breaks 

because you become hard to reach.

I love You when you're angry and dark

and you forget I am your Light.

I love You when you praise others around you

even if you've forgotten to thank Me.

I love You when you are loyal and faithful to others

even if my calls to you are unanswered. 

I will love you anyway.

You see, I love you not for what you do,

but for Who You Are.

You are my beloved, 

I will leave the 99 for you.

You are my child,

and I delight in you. 

You are my Trusted Friend

and I will never leave you.

-Love, Papa

A couple months ago, a reading from the "Imitation of Christ" really pierced me, especially in this season of particular internal valleys. "Jesus has many loves of His heavenly kingdom, but few cross-bearers. Many desire consolation, but few tribulation. Many will sit down with Him at table, but few will suffer for Him."

"Many will follow Him to the breaking of the bread, but few will drink the bitter cup of His Passion. Many revere His miracles, but few follow the shame of His cross. Many love Jesus when all goes well with them, and praise him when he does them a favor; but if Jesus conceals Himself and leaves them for a little while, they fall to complaining and become depressed."

Ugh. Right to the heart on that one. I've been complaining and depressed. Wanting Him to take me out of this inner turmoil and into a different season. A better season. Consolation, comfort. I say I love Him, but I didn't want the cross. I've been going to an adoration chapel almost every morning, trying to shake myself from this darker place I'm not used to. And it has been SO healing. There is no match for joy than the actual presence of Jesus Himself. And finally, my complaining has turned to whispers of adoration and praise and promises. This very morning, poetry started coming back again. I grabbed the small devotion book, the only paper I had handy, and the bright orange pen in my pocket, and scribbled my promises onto this book. (The picture above) Then I started writing a reply from the Savior. Oh how powerful is His love for me and us! And I revisited this passage from the book I couldn't keep reading a couple months ago. I opened to the very page I left, because two months ago, I didn't want the sufferings or the cross. I wanted His banquet not his poverty. I wanted a return for my labor and a return for my love. Oh how I found myself a lover of majesty and despiser of the manager. Lord, forgive me.