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.