The Eagle Story

Faith in the Night Seasons begins with a story about a wounded eaglet who was rescued by a kind farmer. He found the bird in one of his fields, and so took him home, tended to his wounds, and then placed him outside in the barnyard to recover.

Strangely enough, the young eaglet soon adapted to the habits of all the barnyard chickens. He learned to walk and cluck like them. He learned to drink from a trough and peck the dirt for food, and for many years he peacefully resigned himself to this new life on the ground.

But then one day, one of the farmer's friends spotted the eagle and asked, "Why in the world is that bird acting like a chicken?" The farmer told him what had happened, yet the man could hardly accept the situation.

"It's just not right," said the friend. "The Creator made that bird to soar in the heavens, not scavenge in the barnyard!" So he picked up the unsuspecting eagle, climbed onto a nearby fence post, and tossed him into the air. But the confused bird just fell back to earth and scurried off in search of his feathered friends.

Undaunted, the man then grabbed the eagle and climbed to the top of the barn. As he heaved him off the roof, the bird made a few halfhearted squawks and flaps before falling into a bale of hay. After shaking his head a few times, the eagle then made himself comfortable and began mindlessly pecking at pieces of straw.

The friend went home that night dejected, and could barely sleep as he remembered the sight of those powerful talons caked with barnyard mud. He couldn't bear the thought, so the very next day, he headed back to the farm for another try. This time he carried the eagle to the top of a nearby mountain where the sky unfolded in a limitless horizon.

He looked into the eagle's eyes and cried out, "Don't you understand? You weren't made to live like a chicken! Why would you want to stay down here when you were born for the sky?" As the man held the confused bird aloft, he made sure the eagle was facing into the brilliant light of the setting sun. Then he powerfully heaved the bird into the sky, and this time the eagle opened his wings, looked at the sun, caught the updraft rising from the valley, and disappeared into the clouds of heaven.

Do you know that we, too, were born for the sky? The Lord has called us to live in the heights, yet too many of us have huddled together in the barnyard, contentedly scurrying for the safety of our families, our finances, our careers and our comfortable crumbs of faith.

Faith in the Night Seasons is dedicated to all those believers whose barnyards have been destroyed, and to the faithful ones who have walked, or are now walking, in darkness. The hour is late, beloved friends. It is not time to mourn our losses, but rather time to set our eyes upon heaven, spread our wings and fly straight towards the Son. Let's make our journey together...

Walking in Darkness
There once lived a man who feared God and continually turned away from evil. God Himself said, "...there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man." (Job 1:8) He was blessed with many children and much wealth, and the favor of the Lord rested on him like a fine cloak. As he himself so beautifully describes: "...I was in the prime of my days...the friendship of God was over my tent...my steps were bathed in butter, and the rock poured out for me streams of oil!" (Job 29:4,6 NAS).

Could it be that this man, so loved and favored by God, was the same man who later cried out, "...nights of trouble are appointed me. When I lie down I say, 'When shall I arise?' But the night continues..." (Job 7:3,4 NAS)

How could a man so blameless and so upright ever experience such a night of darkness? Job never strayed from God in unbelief, yet God allowed this precious man to endure a season of sorrow. Why?

That is the question which saints, mystics and theologians have been asking throughout the ages. Why does God allow nights of sorrow to come to men and women of faith? It seems to contradict everything we know and believe about a loving and protecting Father. But look further into the story of Job. He himself shines a powerful light upon this mystery when he speaks to God at the very end of his affliction,
I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye sees Thee.... (Job 42:5 NAS)

Something incredible happened to Job during that very darkness. The word "see" is the word ra'ah in Hebrew, which also can mean to "experience." Ironically, it was the darkness that ultimately caused Job to spiritually "see" (or experience) his Creator as he never had before. During that long night of loss, God's faithful servant was transformed into God's intimate friend. And the Bible ends his story with these remarkable words, "...the Lord blessed the latter end [days] of Job more than his beginning." (Job 42:12 NAS)

As we consider the book on the life of Job, most of us would probably say, "That's an amazing story of redemption and resurrection, but I sure hope it never happens to me." Yet today, as I travel around the country speaking and sharing with other believers, I meet so many who are enduring a similar season of sorrow or hardship. These are not disobedient people who have blatantly sinned or who have spurned the counsel of the Lord, but rather these are faithful men and women who have continually sought Him for direction, loved Him and even taught others about Him, as Job had. When God allows crushing circumstances to enter our lives, if we are not prepared and do not understand what is happening, we can often find our faith shipwrecked and our trust shattered.

"Now, I See"
How well I understand this pain, because after 35 years of walking closely with the Lord, I, too, experienced a "night season" in my soul that almost devastated me. Strangely enough, this unexpected darkness did not descend upon me as punishment for sin or chastisement for disobedience. I had feared, honored and obeyed the Lord for many years, so I identified completely with the words of Isaiah 50:10:
Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of His Servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light?

Since I had no understanding concerning this night season, I desperately sought guidance as to what was happening to me. How could I get through this? How long would it last? Had others gone through this before me? Was this normal for all Christians? What was God doing? What was His will in all of this?

While holding fast to the Book of Job and the hundreds of other Scriptures on "night seasons" that I had found, I scoured the bookshelves for virtually anything that would shine a light on my situation. Most contemporary Christian writings, however, offered little or nothing on the subject, and I began to feel that I was lost and alone.

I yearned for comfort and understanding, but strangely enough, the only references to the dark night that I could find (apart from the Bible) were in the works of two Catholic mystics, St. John of the Cross and Madame Guyon. Although I'm neither a Catholic nor a mystic, I searched their books for glimmers of understanding, and ultimately gained something far more important. God used these dear saints to let me know that I was not alone. No matter how much these people differed from me theologically and culturally, God used their words to let me know that many, many others before me had experienced this very same thing. Through these writings, God encouraged me to keep on trusting, keep on obeying and keep on enduring.

These precious saints had not only survived their own dark nights, but had gleaned amazing treasures from that very darkness. Rather than being destroyed by their suffering, these saints had been enriched by it, and their testimonies gave me insight and courage.

As I continued to read and seek understanding concerning this dark night, I discovered a peculiar dark thread woven into the tapestry of many Christian lives. Little by little, God began to show me a recurrent theme in the lives of Jesus, Joseph, Moses, David, Paul, Martin Luther, Oswald Chambers, John Wesley, Hudson Taylor and countless others. They, too, had been discipled by a season of emptiness and sorrow. And for them, as well as for me, the darkest hour came just before dawn. It's true. Our weeping does last for a night, but oh what strength of faith, joy and intimacy awaits us in the morning!
Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: Thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness; to the end that my glory may sing praise to Thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks unto Thee for ever. (Psalm 30:11-12)
For me, the dark night was simply the forerunner of greater Light.

My night season came forth from a Creator who yearned for me to "see" Him and to experience Him as Job finally saw and experienced Him. "I had heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye sees Thee." It came forth from a Father who wanted me to know His presence, His friendship, His Love and His peace in a way I never had before-truly, being filled with "the fulness of Christ" and living the abundant Life.