The darkest season of my life happened when I lost all faith. I did not believe. If there was a God, I didn’t trust him. Because it felt like He had left this sorry world to figure out stuff on its own.

My journey back to faith is not a tidy one. It is tear-stained, riddled with questions, pock-marked with red-faced doubt. God first appeared to me as a flicker — like a flame atop a candle — at the end of long, very dark hallway. And I followed the light until it got big enough so I could see again.

Most days, the light gets brighter still, as I walk forward each day, toward the doorway to another world — a forever world.

But like almost everyone I know, along come those days where circumstances try to block out the light. 

Yet I will not lose hope. I have been in this hallway enough times to know that the light is always up ahead, even when I cannot see it. And getting there requires the discipline of putting one step in front of the other.

Faith doesn’t make life easy. It makes life possible.

I talked to a friend the other day who has been stuck in a dark hallway for a while now. To her, God isn’t even a flicker of light. She can’t find her way, and on top of it, she feels terribly guilty because of her faithlessness.

Maybe you’re like my friend. Maybe you’re in a dark hallway, too — groping along the edges to find your way, hoping that up around the corner you’ll see a glimmer, like some shaft of light at your feet. Life makes no sense. Prayers have gone unanswered. Someone turned out the lights, and ran off with the only shred of faith you had left.

You perhaps wonder:

1 – Does God love me, the faithless one in the dark?

2 – Does He condemn me?

Scripture reveals that the answers are these:

1 – Yes, He loves the faithless one.

2 – No, He does not condemn you.

Let these words bring you comfort:

“What if some did not have faith? Will their lack of faith nullify God’s faithfulness? Not at all!” (Romans 3:3-4)

At our lowest, Jesus bent down — all the way from heaven — to find us and save us. Jesus is more than a flicker at the end of the hallway. He is more than a light at the faraway door. He is not Someone whom you have to strain to reach. He is at the doorway.

But He is also with you in the hallway.