
When the Darkness Feels Too Deep: Remembering Who You Are in the Unknown
Sometimes the struggles of life make it hard to see the light, but remember that the Savior’s goodness shines brightest even when we feel lost.
There are days, aren't there? Days when the whispers of doubt are loud, when the weight of expectation feels crushing, and when the path ahead seems shrouded in an impenetrable fog. It can feel like the darkness has settled in, and all you can hear are the echoes of your own fears.
I remember a time, right after returning from my mission, when I felt that way. The excitement of the *transfers* and the memories of the field were wonderful, but the reality of settling back into 'normal' life—the quiet moments, the mundane routines—felt like a desert. I was struggling to reconcile the vibrant, immediate purpose of the mission with the slow, steady work of building discipleship back home. I felt lost in the dark.
It was during one of those quiet evenings, wrestling with what it means to keep the covenant spirit alive when no one is watching, that I came across this song. It really hit me, right in the spirit. It spoke directly to that feeling of being caught in the lies, of not being able to see the other side.
Oh, Even in the Unknown: A Reminder for the Work
The lyrics echo a truth that has sustained me through every *missionary discussion*, every challenging *district leader* meeting, and every time I’ve felt like I was failing to live up to the standards of the gospel. It’s not about having all the answers, or having a perfect life, or even having a clear plan for *gathering Israel* tomorrow. It’s about acknowledging that even when we are waiting, even when the road feels impossibly long, the goodness of the Savior is constant.
This isn't just a nice song; it’s a spiritual anchor. It’s a reminder that the core message of the restored gospel—the message we are called to bear witness of—is that Christ is the hope in the dark. He is the answer, even when we can't see the healer at work.
Lifting Our Hands When We Can’t See the Way
The most powerful part for me was the bridge: “I will lift my hands while I’m waiting / Louder than my fears I will sing.”
As *rogue disciples*, we are constantly being called to be *internet missionaries*—to be disciples anywhere, all the time. Sometimes that means sharing a scripture highlight in the *social scripture study* feed in LivingBook. Sometimes it means sitting with a friend who is struggling, just listening. Sometimes, it means just sitting quietly with the Spirit.
It requires us to lift our hands even when we feel spiritually drained. It means choosing to sing—to declare, to testify, to *know* that He is good—even when the circumstances around us scream otherwise. This is the heart of *preach my gospel* discipleship.
If you are feeling that weight right now—the unknown, the waiting—I invite you to use this feeling, not as a sign of failure, but as a prompt to deepen your personal study. Have you been utilizing the resources in *HolyPlaces*? If you’ve been wanting to dig into the Book of Mormon, consider joining a *Book Club* or a *Bible Study Group*. These structured settings are perfect for when the personal journey feels too overwhelming.
For those of you who are actively preparing for service, or who are newly returned and feeling the culture shock, I highly recommend revisiting the teachings of Abraham Gesell in *Iron Rod*. His insights on covenant keeping are pure gold for moments like these. If you haven't, take a moment to explore his writings in LivingBook.
We are a community built on the promise that we never walk alone. Let’s keep lifting our hands together. If you feel the Spirit prompting you to share this reminder with someone who might be struggling, please do. And if you’re ready to keep building those skills, check out the free weekly Disciple Challenge—it’s a great, low-pressure way to keep the momentum going!
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