Different Kind of Beauty in the Dark

This past fall, when Ryan and I went on our multi-state tour of the eastern part of the country, we couldn't get over the beauty of every destination we visited. We adore the ocean, so even though it wasn't warm beach weather, standing with our toes buried in the sand, looking out to water that kissed the horizon was beautiful. And meandering through the mountains was all kinds of stunning for these two who live in the predictable flatlands. New York in the prime week of fall was colorful and delightful. We hiked through the state park and stared, open-mouthed at the clashing of rocky canyons and full-color forests. And then we went to Niagara Falls and shook our heads at the combined power and splendor of the tumbling water.

It was probably the most aesthetically magnificent vacation we've ever taken. {And we toured the Caribbean on our cruise, so that's saying something!} I remember over and over throughout that trip thinking how amazing God is in the creativity and attention to detail He has given His creation. Amazing.

I thought of it again last week as Ryan and I stood huddled by the miniature campfire in that park where we went for the New Year's Day hike. We stomped our feet and stayed close together out of the sheer need for warmth. We put on hats and hoods and I buried my nose into my scarf to preserve warm breath.

The hike began beside a pond and in the dusk of a cloudy, non-descript January day, the water jut sat, cold and silver with naked coal-colored tree branches stretching starkly toward the sky. It was all gray and black, top to bottom. The sky, the trees, the water.

And yet somehow even in that, it was beautiful.

A different kind of beautiful.

Despite the absence of the colors and textures we seem to find so lovely in nature, there was something lovely about the sight. The trees that can withstand the snow and cold and winds, and still come back full and green come spring. The water that can freeze over and feel harsh to the touch, but flow blue and warm again in a few months. The sky that could be plain today but could be bright tomorrow. {And it was, that next day!}

It reminded me of the dark places of my own journey - the seasons that have felt cloudy and cold and anything but beautiful in comparison to the lovely days. But even in those hard seasons, there's a beauty I can see. Sometimes I can't see it IN that moment, but when I look back later, I can see there was something distinctly lovely about the darkness. Those were the seasons when I fought for life and the hope of beauty and joy even when surrounded by the cold and the dark.

This week has been full of beautiful sunrises, and even though my view of them here in the middle of town has been a bit obstructed, I'm grateful for days of sunshine in the middle of winter. But I'm freshly aware of the beauty of the dark, and not just because it brings renewed appreciation for the light. It's beautiful in its own way. It has a strength and raw loveliness that shouldn't be overlooked.

So whether your literal or figurative world has been dark lately, don't lose heart. Darkness brings its own kind of lovely.