Darkness Archives - Kristin Saatzer

What’s Your Story?

June 15, 2018 By Kristin Saatzer 3 Comments

My dad was in the hospital this week. Thankfully, he is out and his prognosis is good. While I hung out with Dad those two days, I was privy to some sad sights. The most tragic was the man recovering from a suicide attempt in a room close to ours. His parents, wife and tiny children sat vigilantly in the waiting room. A guard waited outside his door.

It broke my heart. Those babies and young wife. The parents, so hopeful in their shock and grief. In light of this and all the talk in society about suicide, depression, and anxiety lately, I decided to repost a blog I wrote in 2015, for incourage.me

So many of us struggle in the area of mental health or love someone who does. It is a lonely, scary business and sometimes terrifying. A different kind of #metoo is happening, a movement of story sharing. There is a beautiful vulnerability in the telling: Those who have suffered from the blues, nudge the issue out of the dark and into the open where light can shine and hope and help can be found. If we tell our stories, it may compel someone who desperately needs a lifeboat, feels isolated, prideful (like me), or too embarrassed to reach out. A friend, acquaintance or even a stranger waits in the wings. We do not have to suffer alone.

I do not know this young man’s backstory. Did he reach out for help? Did he feel pride and shame before it was too late? My prayer is that this is the beginning of his journey out of the pit. Please Lord, please.

Dear friend, what’s your story?

My story continues. Here is a small dose:Continue Reading

I’m In, How About You?

October 13, 2017 By Kristin Saatzer 5 Comments

If we’ve ever needed You, Lord, it’s now, Lord, it’s now,
We are desperate for Your hand, we’re reachin’ out, we’re reachin’ out,
If we’ve ever needed You, Lord, it’s now, Lord, it’s now,
We are desperate for Your hand, we’re reachin’ out, we’re reachin’ out

Let Your Church arise, let Your Church arise! Casting Crowns

The happy crowd at the Route 91 Harvest Festival sang “God Bless America”, honoring their country and the veterans present on the stage. Just moments later, evil struck, bringing devastation and death; life will never be the same.

Be merciful to me, LORD, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief. Psalm 31:9 NIV

I know many who attended this concert. None dead or maimed physically. Yet, emotionally maimed and changed forever.

How do we wrap our brains around the devastating events of this fall? Here in the USA and abroad: earthquakes, storms, fires, death, and darkness. I am leery of switching on my radio, checking the news, scrolling through Facebook or even checking my texts. It seems each day brings heart-wrenching news from the world at large or from people I know experiencing sorrow or crisis. There is no making sense of it. Continue Reading

The Secret Sauce Part 1

June 15, 2017 By Kristin Saatzer 6 Comments

365 days.

My tunnel journey began one year ago last week. I had to make my way through the dark. Unfortunately, there was no way around it. One slow step at a time.

Today, as I continue to plod on, I realize this tunnel of grief is requisite towards wholeness. Moving forward is my only option.

Yet, I’m not alone here.

I’ve been asked, “What’s the secret to surviving a trial like yours?” Some say I’m courageous and strong. Some wonder how I seem to have my act together. Ha!

I am not strong. I am weak. I get scared. I don’t have it together. Just ask my kids: I eat too much chocolate, I’m spacey, I scare easily, I giggle at inappropriate moments, and I’m a klutz. And that’s just the tip. We’ve had countless yoyo (you’re on your own) nights for dinner. There are messes and dishes in the sink. You’ll find unpaid bills and neglected laundry. I’ve had panic attacks and melancholy. Not the picture of a woman with her act together.

Private pain. Public pain. Family pain. Physical pain. Financial pain. So. Much. Pain.

Yet I do plug along, walking through the mess, even finding joy and gratitude.

How?

You see, there’s this blue chair in my bedroom. The arms threadbare and faded. The seams pulling and the stuffing bunched. Even so, this chair is holy territory. The morning sunbeams spotlight it’s welcome.This is where the most important ingredients of my Secret Sauce are found.

Here is where I meet with God most days. Where I “Seek Ye first”- day after day, year after year. Here is where I plug into my power. My prayer chair. This is the spot where intimacy grows, where I become fortified. Even when I am half asleep, or my mind goes awry or runs away completely, there is beauty in it. An investment in eternity.

This investment pays dividends.

You see, my secret strength is my Savior in me.

I would not have set one toe in that tunnel but for God. I would have bailed or done things my way. But because He and I are intimate, I knew His voice as He told me to stay and walk the hard walk. I felt His fingers wipe my tears. I grasped His arms containing me. Sitting in that blue chair clutching my blue Bible, intimacy and trust emerged, extraordinary happened. Investment happened.

Therefore, I am not alone in this tunnel.

You are not alone.

Friend, are you in a season of tunnel-walking? Are you grieving? Lonely? Afraid of the next step? If this is a time of stability, then what is your investment strategy for the future?

There is light in the dark with and because of Jesus. My light has come in many forms (stay tuned for Part 2). May we remember, each morning is new, filled with the mercies of Christ waiting for us. Don’t miss it! Press on with Jesus and seek Him first. The dividends are endless.

What To Do In The Wait?

January 31, 2017 By Kristin Saatzer 7 Comments

Unwell. Unengaged. Uninterested.

It was as if I stood in a hallway before an unopened door, knowing health and healing lay on the other side.

Ten years ago, I pleaded with God to heal my malaise. I desperately needed and wanted Him to open the door and allow me to step out of the gloomy hallway. Yet there were blessings in that place. Time passed and eventually, God drew me out of the hall, through the doorway and into His healing light.

These days, I find myself in yet another hallway, praying for another door to open. Only this time it involves two family members struggling through deep waters of pain.

How about you?

Do you stand before a door today, waiting for God to answer? To heal? To provide? Do you need Him to show you the way you should go? Is there a difficult decision before you keeping you awake at night?