“God always gives us light in the midst of our doubts when we have no other purpose but to please Him.”
– Brother Lawrence, Fourth Conversation
That quote above by Brother Lawrence speaks to something that most of us know by experience, even if we don’t always recognize it in the moment. God’s light doesn’t wait for our circumstances to improve, but meets us right in the fog of our anxieties, when our hearts turn back toward Him.
All of us, at one point or another, have allowed our minds to become so fixated on worldly problems that we wander away from God’s truth. It rarely feels like rebellion. More often, it feels like practicality – like bills that must be paid, numbers that must add up, futures that must be secured. And yet, somewhere in all of the mental arithmetic, our eyes drift from the goodness of God to the weight of what we fear we cannot control.
I was reminded of this a few months ago in the most ordinary way – by the mailbox. Just moments before, my spirit was light. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and my heart felt strangely carefree. Creation itself seemed to be preaching joy! Then I opened an envelope and read an updated estimate of the looming annual increase in my health insurance premium. In the space of a minute or two, the skies seemed to cloud over and the birds fell silent. The joy I’d not questioned moments earlier was replaced by a knot of financial worry. Instead of acknowledging God’s goodness, I began rehearsing the very real possibility of a debt I did not know how I would pay.
Looking back, I can almost picture God smiling… not mockingly, but tenderly, at how quickly my focus had shifted. I worried about being a debtor, while standing before the One to whom I already owe everything. My breath, my health, my salvation, my hope -none of it is self-generated. I am, and always have been, His greatest debtor, and yet He has never once sent me an invoice! Instead, He has paid my greatest debt Himself.
That moment at the mailbox became an invitation. Not to deny the reality of financial responsibility, but to reorient my heart. God did not scold me for worrying. He simply offered light… a gentle, steady light reminding me that pleasing Him begins with trust. When my purpose shifted back from solving everything to resting in Him, the darkness lifted. The numbers did not immediately change, but my posture did.
God’s light often comes this way. Not as some sort of dramatic answer or immediate solution, but as a recalibration of the heart. When our deepest desire is no longer to secure ourselves, but to please Him, doubts begin to lose their power to dominate us. They may still speak, but they no longer have the final word. God’s faithfulness does.
So when the skies seem to darken suddenly – when joy gives way to worry in the space of a single envelope or conversation -remember this: God is not startled by your doubts. He is already present within them, ready to give light. Turn your purpose back toward Him, and you may find that the birds begin to sing again.
And not because your problems disappeared, but because your trust was restored.
Former Blackout Artist 