I have been privileged to write a blog since 2012 when I began my journey from a life that was fairly predictable to one that was anything but. Like a roller coaster, the turns and twists of life were exciting and nauseating, and the highs and lows were fear inducing and, on occasion, faith shattering. In fact, I have said to many people recently that this has been a “dark night of the soul” experience.

The Dark Night of the Soul is a poem that was penned by St. John of the Cross in 1578 or 1579 and it describes the journey one’s soul takes from the body to be in union with God. The phrase has become synonymous with being plunged into spiritual crisis.

I willingly admit that I have been extremely angry with God (He can handle it!) for a number of things that I expected to happen or that didn’t happen on my timetable; so much so that I couldn’t pray for months because I convinced myself that God wasn’t listening to me anyway, so why bother? This reminded me of when I was young in my faith; I wouldn’t speak to God for a long time because of something I thought that He should or shouldn’t have allowed to happen to me. But, as I grew in understanding, I just assumed that, while bad things happen to good people and to those who are striving to be good, I had immunity from the devastating stuff simply because God and I were on good terms. Little did I know that being on good terms with God, especially when you sincerely ask Him to use your life, may mean the worst is yet to come!

I have recounted in several posts the past two-year journey of putting a music museum together and the triumphs and trials associated with the process. I was certain that I was called to do it, but the outcome was extremely disappointing. I returned to my home town having been severely tested on every front imaginable. At various points, I cried out to God and said, “Are you mad at me?” “Did I misunderstand?” and “Can you still hear me?” At every turn during this odyssey, the response was that God was with me and that this journey was His plan for me. God also reminded me that in order for Him to release our gifts and anointing, like flowers for perfume, we must go through a “crushing” period. I truly understand in a way that I couldn’t before this experience Jesus’ statement to His Father, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me, but not as I will, thy will be done” (Luke 22:42).

I prayed and waited, and waited and prayed for God to work things out to my satisfaction, but each time, the situation took another turn that appeared to be in the wrong direction; instead of bringing me closer to what I thought the end would be, it took me farther away! The price of obedience was higher than any I had paid in the past.

I felt horrible that my faith had been all but shattered and that I no longer saw God as my loving guide and my protector, but rather as someone who allowed me to be hurt and victimized as I had during my teen years. I couldn’t reconcile the God that I served with the bully that I had made Him to be. Throughout this time, I kept hearing in my spirit and from various ministers that this part of the journey was preparation for something bigger and better. Like Joseph in the Bible, who was elevated to prime minister years after his brothers sold him into slavery, I have come to appreciate his triumphant statement that what his brothers meant for evil, God intended for his good (Genesis 50:20).

So, for the first time in several months, I am able to pray with a newfound understanding that God did not allow those things to happen to me, He did them for me so that I might know Him– and myself– in a more intimate way during my soul’s “dark night.”