The Darkness

03092016 The Darkness 

Since Monday night, my mind has been on The Darkness.  I’m not in a dark place, don’t get me wrong, but The Darkness came up and now I’ve been thinking about it hard.  Since I haven’t written since last year (November, I think), you are wondering where I’ve been, and I’ll share that with you later.  Today, I need to purge my thoughts about The Darkness. 

In October, I took a group of students to Thrashers House of Terror and the Midwest Haunted Rails.  Not really a place you’d think about taking a youth group from church, but I assure you, it gives worthy cause to talk about God’s saving grace, and how we don’t want to get caught up in the trappings of this world.  How our fears can control us and how God can rescue us from everything – even our fear of killer clowns.  It’s always a time of laughter for me, when I can scream at a random moment, and all the people who are nervous will scream in response and I just can’t stop laughing at the chain reaction.  It’s also a time when I can be “brave” and protect my little chicks from the random boogie men (and women) who occupy our precious Old Threshers grounds for about eight weeks. 

In protector mode, I am calm.  I tell all the people with me that it takes just as much courage to admit you are scared as it does to do the thing you’re afraid of.  It takes just as many guts to chicken out as it does to push ahead.  We’re all different, and I really believe that advocating for self; really knowing what you need, what you can handle – is the bravest thing a person can do.  In my calm, protective mode, I lead the path, or I bring up the end.  No one really wants to be at the end because they think that all the creeps will touch them or grab them from behind.  I like the end because I can see all the things that are happening in our line.  Let me explain how the House of Terror works.  It’s different each year, so I’ll just set up how this past year went… you pay for a ticket – no refunds, no exchanges.  You get in line.  If you’re smart and go there first, when the place first opens, you get in relatively quickly (we were first in line, no waiting).  If you eat supper at 5 or 6 and get there at 6:30, you will wait upwards of 30 minutes, hearing the screams of fear from everyone going through the house.  Once in, a “puppet” talked to us about the “rules”.  The puppet “spit” in our faces and three members of our group walked out.  They didn’t even make it inside.  The rest of the group was amazed that the “puppet” knew that there were four girls and three guys.  The puppet talked to us as if “he” could see us.  This was a little freaky to the kids, but it was bearable.  We moved inside.  Now, this “house” is actually a giant warehouse, cordoned off into several sections, which are all themed.  Our first section was the library, where the librarian scolded us for talking and presented us with all the rules for the event.  She handed us 3D glasses, which was unnerving for me, because I don’t like things to mess with my vision, but I took them, in the spirit of participation.  Besides, I knew the part I would absolutely hate had nothing to do with the 3D glasses. 

We went through several sections with black lights and glow in the dark paint, and it was a bit confusing and hard to see our way around, but eventually, our guide told us that part was over and took our glasses.  We went through sections with killer clowns, bathrooms filled with blood, insane asylums, doll houses, and the section I detest – the claustrophobic section.  This is an area that is pitch black and there is some sort of material all around you.  It resembles parachute material but isn’t quite as silky.  It is black and is being forced into every crevice of your body.  It’s heavy and it’s pushing against every area of your body.  Because of the material, it conforms to you, so it touches your arms, legs, chest, face, neck… everywhere; and it’s pressing with forced air or something, which makes it hard to breathe.  Last time, I panicked and moved faster through this section, nearly mowing my group down.  This time, I knew to protect my mouth and nose with my hands, cupping them together, and making a mask of sorts, where the oxygen could enter and escape without the pressure from the black material.  However, this year, they made the claustrophobic area much, much longer.  While it took a little while to get through, we made it, my nerves were still intact. 

Pressing on, we went through rooms with chainsaw wielding axmen and crying old women in rocking chairs; dead animals, rooms with strobe lights and fog so thick it was hard to breathe, little girls singing haunting songs while chasing you down corridors and other “rooms” which were designed to play on the fears and senses of anyone willing to buy a ticket.   All was well until we were about to leave the “house”.  The very last room is where I nearly lost my cool and had to scream.  Not in fear, but in anger – because of fear. 

Anger is my go-to emotion when I’m in a situation where I feel powerless and fearful yet must protect others.  Most people wouldn’t get that, because I’m not an angry person, but when I must protect others, my momma bear persona comes out, and I can’t help but growl.  When I’m not feeling completely overwhelmed, when I’m just nervous or trying to be in control of a situation, I have a monotone voice, a voice that takes over when I can’t think of the right thing to say or do; but the momma bear just growls.  She isn’t nice.  She isn’t polite and doesn’t care who gets rattled by her voice, in fact, that’s kind of the point. 

So, we are about to leave the house of terror and I can feel the pressure building.  The first two people in our group are strangers to us.  We don’t know them and until this trek through the warehouse, we had never seen them.  Also, in my group there are about four teenage girls.  They are all athletic and healthy.  No one should be in grave danger here.  The girls laughed most of the night and seemed to have enjoyed their time here too.  They jumped and squealed and then laughed at themselves.  I think we’re all good.  The strangers take us into the room.  We are in a box of blackness.  There isn’t a speck of light anywhere, and there are no actors or props in here.  It is simply dark and empty.  The smell of smoke from the fog machine lingers, hovering in our nostrils and warms our eyes, which are squinting, straining, and failing to see anything.  The sounds of screams of other groups around us pierce our ears, our already heightened sense of hearing is jolted from the silence by the screams and faint laughter.  We hear the moans, cackling, roars, and threats of the characters from the other rooms, but there is nothing visible to the eye.  Not one thing.  The ground is hard and cold and seems wet.  I can’t be sure, but I think we might be getting covered in a fine mist.  The kind of mist like on a foggy day, that you can’t really feel, but you can see on your windshield.  My feet make a scuffing sound as I try to maneuver my body in search of light, but none comes.  We must be able to get out somehow. 

Our group is talking now, trying to figure out the purpose of this room.  Did we make a wrong turn?  Was this the way we were to go?  Are we sure our leaders were really guests here, or were they actors?   Had they brought us here to torture us?  Why was this room so dark?  Why weren’t there any people in it?  Where was our tour guide?  And where was that dag blasted door?  My blood is starting to warm inside me when my eyes are flooded with a blinding red light.  Where is that light coming from?  Oh!  It’s an “Exit” sign!  Great!  We’re out of here!  Our group starts to move toward the light, only to run into a wall.  The light goes out and we are back in the darkness again.  Nothing but cold, black emptiness here.  Did we miss the opening?  Were we too late getting over to where that sign lit up?  Our group moves around again, all holding onto the person in front of us, like a group of preschoolers leaving for a field trip.  “We have been in here quite a long time, another group should be coming soon“, I thought to myself.  Another “Exit” sign lights the pitch black with screaming red letters, but not in the same place it was last time.  We shuffle over to it.  Another dead end.  No exit here, just another trick.  We are all murmuring now, questions and suggestions, pondering the relevance of this room.  Stuck here, in limbo, not being able to see a single glimmer of light, we pout.  The burst of red screams into the darkness again, this time in a different place.  We collectively run towards it.  Our bodies begin to move together, as a creature of the darkness has evolved from seven helpless people who once stood smothered in it.  I slam into the girl ahead of me and push her into the girl leading her, who goes into the one before her and the chain reacts all the way to the front, where the leader is forced into the wall.  Another lie.  We had been in this hole for what seemed like fifteen to twenty minutes, when another light flickered on then off.  It happened so fast; we didn’t even know where it went.  Was it moving?  Was it a trick?  I am getting angry now.  We don’t know where we are, we have been in here so long.  We are never getting out.  Dang it!  I hate this place.  Where is that group that’s supposed to be coming right behind us??? Where is our stinking tour guide?  Can we really be lost?  Emotions are rolling through me, and while the others aren’t crying out like they did in the killer clown room, the tension in this room is thick.  The chilly floor is gone and now, I linger in the heat of my own desire to get us the heck out of here. 

The light appears in a location it hadn’t been to before.  We swiftly attack it, and a blinding light cuts into the darkness.  Light.  Squinting again, straining to see the way, we move through the door, our eyes burning from the light.  One more blast from the air compressor as we pass, and we are out. 

The Darkness is a lot like that room.  It’s cold and misty, lonely, and vacant.  It’s empty of all beauty and purpose.  The Darkness is loud and silent all at the same time.  It’s blinding for lack of sight.  There is no way to tell you the amount of time you’re in it, for there is no sense of day or night.  No light.  No way out. 

It seems like one would do well to avoid that room, and yet, some of us go in there unwittingly; unknowingly.  Just following along the path and then blam! We’re inside and shaking and wondering what happened.  Sometimes, we know we’re on a path leading nowhere good, but we don’t turn back.  Nope, we bought our ticket and we’re going to enjoy ourselves while we can.  If things don’t turn out well, we don’t care, we pay and we’re going to play.  It can be scary and torturous and painful and annoying and even bring us to anger.  However, The Darkness doesn’t care.  It stays on.  It consumes.  It steals time and senses and reason and light.  Sucks it all up into a vacuum and laughs. 

However, those of us who have been into The Darkness and managed to come out know that we are not alone in that room.  We know that there is someone there with us. We know that they are doing their best to find the door and are holding onto us as we shuffle around blindly.  We know that our plans are powerless, and our defenses are senseless in The Darkness.   We know that holding onto the one holding onto us is the smartest thing we can do for now.  But we also know that The Light will come.  It will come and beckon us to the way out.  We know that it might take us a while to realize it is the right way, the way to safety, but we know that it will come. The Light will save us from the feelings and thoughts, the fears, and the irrational behaviors.  The Light will bring us out into the open for all the world to see that we have survived.  Not only survived but are empowered by the strength it took to hold on. 

The Darkness can envelop you when you least expect it.  So can The Light. So, if you happen to be in that dark room today, if you happen to have wandered in unexpectedly or followed the path or even knew you were headed there; if you’re in that dark room, and you’re wondering what’s happening or if you’ll ever get out… just cry out.  Cry out and reach out your hand in the darkness… you are not alone.  The Light is coming, and you will be set free very soon.  Just hold on. 

** Christians know who The Light is.  If you do not personally know who The Light is, please call, text, or message me.  Or read about it here, in Luke 22, Luke 23 and Luke 24.** *More on this subject later. *