“Treasures in the Dark”
“And I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness—secret riches. I will do this so you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, the one who calls you by name.” – Isaiah 45:3
You know that moment when you realize even your tears have given up? When the shower water mingles with what’s left of your weeping, and you can’t tell which is which anymore? Yeah, that kind of broken.
Two years after my stone flew wide left, I found myself standing in line with other pastors at our state Camp Meeting. Fourteen faithful members. Empty church accounts. Bill collectors who had my number on speed dial. And now, a board of inquiry breathing down my neck, ready to stamp “FAILED” on my ministry resume.
Let me tell you about famine. Not the kind you read about in history books, but the kind that gnaws at your soul. You see, at its core, famine is simply a ‘lack of.’ And lack? That’ll preach.
Some people experience a famine of love, others a famine of companionship. Some wake up to a famine of purpose, others to a famine of hope. My famine? It was the kind that shows up in empty bank accounts and disconnection notices. When you lose members, you lose financial support – it’s just math. But this wasn’t just about church finances. This was about wondering if I could keep the lights on. About weeks when there simply wasn’t money to pay the pastor – that would be me. The kind of famine that has you calculating and recalculating numbers that refuse to add up.
The pressure was relentless. Bill collectors became my most faithful callers. And there I was, taking showers where tears mixed with water, racking my brain for solutions that refused to come. Ever tried to lead people out of a desert while dying of thirst yourself? Yeah, that kind of famine.
Let me paint you a picture of what rock bottom looks like in a minister’s life. It’s standing in a single-file line of your peers, waiting for prayer, watching as each pastor ahead of you receives their moment of blessing. Your turn comes. You climb those platform stairs like they’re your last hope – because honestly? They are.
Then it happens.
The evangelist reaches out his hand. But instead of prayer, you get a redirect. He pulls you past him like you’re invisible, reaching for the next person in line. Just like that – the prayer you desperately needed becomes the prayer you never received.
Ever felt invisible? Like God’s got everyone else’s number but lost yours? That night, I walked across that stage, down those stairs, through that sanctuary, and straight into the darkest night of my soul. In my car, tears dripping off my chin, I had it out with God.
“Am I invisible? Is this what it comes down to? I can’t even get a prayer in my darkest hour?”
But here’s where God gets good. (And by good, I mean perspective-shattering good.)
Right there, in my car, surrounded by darkness, God started talking about… darkness. But not the way we usually hear it in church. Not the “rebuke the darkness” kind of talk. Instead, He whispered about treasures.
“Darkness hides,” He said, “but it also reveals. It may hide the rose at your feet, but it reveals the stars in the sky. You’d never see those stars without the darkness.”
Hold up. Read that again.
You see, we’re quick to rebuke darkness, aren’t we? Bind it. Cast it out. Run from it. But what if – just what if – God has hidden treasures in that very darkness we’re so desperate to escape?
Let me drop three truth bombs about darkness:
- Darkness Strips Away Our Pretenses “But he knows where I am going. And when he tests me, I will come out as pure as gold.” (Job 23:10) In the light, I could boast about building a church. In the darkness, I discovered who really built it – and spoiler alert: it wasn’t me.
- Darkness Births New Vision “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.” (Isaiah 9:2) That night, God birthed in me a burden for pastors of small churches. For the invisibles. For the ones whose congregations would never make a ministry magazine cover.
- Darkness Develops Divine Perspective “Even the darkness is not dark to You.” (Psalm 139:12) Some things can only be birthed in darkness. Like stars. Like diamonds. Like authentic ministry.
Think about it this way, that prayer that was never prayed? It became the prayer that changed everything. Because sometimes God’s greatest answers come disguised as apparent rejections.
The church made a full recovery. But more importantly, so did I. Not because the darkness lifted, but because I found the treasures hidden within it.
To every pastor feeling invisible right now, every leader wondering if anyone sees your struggle, every believer walking through your own darkness – you’re not alone. God’s not just working despite the darkness; He’s working through it.
Because the God who hung the stars in darkness? He’s still birthing galaxies in your midnight hour.
