When the Lights Go Out

Read

Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Think

It happens fast. A phone call. A diagnosis. A betrayal you never saw coming. One minute life is bright and predictable, and the next—blackout. You’re standing in the middle of your own night shift. No one signs up for it. The night shift isn’t part of the dream board. It’s the season you never planned but now have to endure. And while you might feel hidden or forgotten, Scripture tells a different story: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.”

Let that sink in—close. Not casually checking in from a distance. Not vaguely aware. But intimately present. When your soul gets crushed under the weight of grief or disappointment, God doesn’t retreat. He moves toward you. In the ancient world, nighttime was terrifying. No streetlights. No alarm systems. Darkness meant danger, confusion, and vulnerability. And yet, it’s in these exact conditions that God often does his deepest work.

Think of Jacob—wrestling with God until dawn. Or Paul and Silas—singing in prison at midnight. Or Jesus—sweating blood in the Garden while his closest friends slept. Scripture isn’t shy about the reality of darkness. But neither is it silent about what God does there. The “night shift” moments of our lives are not wasted time. They are spiritual incubators. The pressure. The quiet. The questions. All of it becomes fertile ground for transformation—if we let it.

Pain has a way of pulling us into deeper places. When the surface-level answers stop working, we’re forced to dig—to search, cry out, and wrestle. And sometimes, that’s exactly where breakthrough happens. Not in clarity, but in closeness. Not in fixing everything, but in finding that we are not alone. Charles Spurgeon once said, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” That’s not denial—it’s faith that sees beyond what’s visible. It’s the trust that even in heartbreak, God is still at work.

You may feel like you're groping around in the dark—but God sees you. And better yet, he’s with you. The lights may be out, but his presence has never been brighter. The “night shift” doesn’t mean God is punishing you. It might actually mean he’s preparing you. Shaping something in you that daylight never could. Because when everything else is stripped away—when the noise quiets and the crowds disappear—that’s when you hear him clearest.

If you find yourself in a dark season, take heart. The God who hung the stars is holding your hand. He’s not waiting on the other side of your pain. He’s right in it, right now, with you.

Apply

Take ten minutes today—no phone, no music, no noise. Sit in the stillness and ask this question: “God, what are you forming in me right now?” Write down one word or phrase that comes to mind. Then, share that word with a trusted friend or mentor. You don’t need to explain everything—just let someone in.

Pray

God, thank you that you don’t run from the dark. You move into it with me. When I feel crushed and confused, help me remember that you are close. Not absent. Not angry. But present. Teach me to trust you in the night shift and to believe you’re doing something good even when I can’t see it. In Jesus’ name. Amen.