Finding the Light of Christ in Our Darkest Moments

“The light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.” — John 1:5

There is no such thing as darkness. Darkness is simply the absence of light.

If you have ever ventured deep into a cave, you know this to be true. Hundreds of feet beneath the earth’s surface, where no sunlight can penetrate, the darkness feels absolute. Yet even there, the smallest flame—a single match or a tiny spark—immediately pushes the darkness away.

Our spiritual lives are much the same.

There are seasons in mortality when the light of Christ seems difficult to find. Sometimes our own choices cloud our vision. Sometimes the actions of others wound us. And sometimes life’s unexpected trials leave us feeling surrounded by darkness.

In those moments, we may wonder: Where is God? How do I find His light again?

Over the years, I have learned that the Light of Christ never disappears. Even when we cannot see it, it is there—guiding, comforting, strengthening, and often reaching us through unexpected people and experiences.

One experience forever changed my understanding of this truth.

When Darkness Came

Years ago, my wife and I were the parents of three young children and eagerly awaiting the birth of our fourth.

Around that same time, I made one of the most difficult decisions of my professional life.

I resigned from my job because I could no longer reconcile the company’s business practices with my personal beliefs. I left without another position waiting for me. We suddenly found ourselves facing unemployment while my wife was in the final weeks of pregnancy.

As if that uncertainty were not enough, disagreements with my former employer eventually resulted in a lawsuit against our family.

The future felt anything but secure.

Shortly before our son’s birth, my wife asked for a priesthood blessing. During that blessing, I received a distinct impression that things would not happen according to our plans—but that everything would ultimately be alright.

It was a strange feeling.

The Spirit gave me peace, yet I also sensed that difficult days were ahead. At the time, I could not understand why.

A few days later, my wife went into labor.

After many hours, labor stalled. The doctor used forceps to assist in delivering our son. He was finally born—a beautiful baby boy.

But almost immediately, I knew something was wrong.

The nurses rushed him from the room. Moments later, my wife began experiencing severe pain unlike anything expected after delivery. Suddenly, what had been a joyful delivery room filled with doctors and nurses. Within moments, they wheeled my wife into emergency surgery.

Just as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone.

I found myself sitting alone in a silent hospital room.

No one came to explain what was happening.

Eventually, I wandered into the waiting room, not knowing where to go or what the future held.

Hours later, a physician finally found me.

He explained that my wife’s uterus had ruptured during delivery. She had required sixty-eight units of blood during emergency surgery. The rupture had also deprived our son’s brain of oxygen.

Both my wife and my newborn son were now on life support.

The hope of bringing them home together seemed almost impossible.

It was one of the darkest times of my life.

A Light in the Waiting

As I left the hospital that evening, I drove home alone.

I remember stopping at an intersection, staring blankly at the traffic light. Everything finally caught up with me.

Instead of driving home beside my wife while our newborn slept peacefully in the back seat, I was alone.

Three young children were waiting for me.

My wife might not survive.

My newborn son might not survive.

I sat motionless even after the light turned green until a car behind me honked.

In that moment, there was nothing left to rely upon except God.

I prayed with a sincerity I had never known before.

I pleaded for strength that I did not possess.

Looking back, I realize the Lord answered that prayer almost immediately.

Not by removing the trial.

But by sending light.

Family members quietly took our children and told us not to worry about them.

Friends administered priesthood blessings.

Meals appeared.

Neighbors cared for our home—even our dog—without ever being asked.

People carried burdens that I could no longer carry myself.

Isaiah’s promise became deeply personal:

“Fear thou not; for I am with thee… I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee.” (Isaiah 41:10)

I also found refuge in the scriptures.

As I waited in the intensive care unit, I pulled out my Palm Pilot—yes, I am old enough to remember carrying my scriptures on one, and simply began reading.

The words of Christ brought a peace no medical report could offer.

One passage became especially meaningful.

When the Savior visited the Nephites, He taught:

“For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (3 Nephi 13:21)

In those words, I was reminded that God’s eternal plan extends far beyond this life.

The world measures success by what we possess here.

God measures eternity.

Families are forever.

Death does not end covenant relationships.

That truth became an anchor.

Learning to Trust God

Eventually, the doctors removed my wife from life support.

She survived.

When she regained consciousness, she knew nothing about our son’s condition.

Together, we met with the specialists caring for him.

They explained that the lack of oxygen had caused catastrophic brain damage. Our son would never recover.

Because the rest of his tiny body remained healthy, however, another possibility existed.

Our son could become an organ donor.

No parent imagines making that decision.

Through tears, prayer, and faith, we chose to allow him to return to our Heavenly Father while giving life to others.

Our son became the first infant organ donor at Utah Valley Regional Medical Center.

His heart and intestines blessed two other infants and their families.

Looking back, we better understood the impression received during my wife’s priesthood blessing.

Things had not unfolded according to our plans.

But God had a plan we could not yet see.

Joseph Smith once taught that children who leave mortality in infancy are spared many of the sorrows of this fallen world and will rise again in perfect glory. That promise has brought our family immeasurable peace.

Although our son’s earthly life lasted only a short time, his influence continues.

He strengthened our faith.

He blessed other families through organ donation.

Most importantly, he taught us that God’s purposes often reach far beyond what we can see in the present moment.

The Light Still Shines

As I reflect on those events, I realize that God did not remove the darkness.

Instead, He filled it with light.

He strengthened us through prayer.

He comforted us through His word.

He ministered to us through family, friends, priesthood blessings, and quiet acts of service.

Most importantly, He invited us to trust Him before we understood His purposes.

I have often thought of these words by Minnie Louise Haskins:

“And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: ‘Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.’

And he replied: ‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.’”

That is how faith often works.

We want God to illuminate the entire path before we take the first step.

Instead, He asks us to trust Him enough to step into the darkness with our hand in His.

Only then does His light reveal the way.

Our Invitation

Each of us will experience seasons when darkness seems overwhelming.

Illness.

Loss.

Disappointment.

Loneliness.

Financial hardship.

Questions without immediate answers.

None of us is exempt.

But neither are any of us beyond the reach of the Savior’s light.

If you find yourself walking through darkness today, continue praying, even when heaven seems quiet.

Open the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, and allow the Savior’s words to fill your heart.

Accept the help of those whom God sends into your life, and look for opportunities to become His light in someone else’s.

Above all, trust Him.

The Light of Christ is never extinguished.

Sometimes it appears as a quiet prompting.

Sometimes as the kindness of a friend.

Sometimes, as peace that comes without explanation.

And sometimes, only after looking back, do we realize He was walking beside us every step of the way.

Jesus Christ is the Light of the World. He walks with us through every trial and every sorrow. Because of Him, darkness never has the final word.