Light and Shadow

“Shadows are as important as light.” This thought from Jane Eyre has stayed with me. The novel tells a story of a man and a woman, but it also reminds us of something universal: every person has both a bright side and a dark side, and both are important.

In Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), we often use the expression “gray area” to describe experiences, mistakes, failures, and misfortunes that people would rather hide from others. During my CPE training, I learned from my colleagues that everyone has some kind of gray area in life. I remember one student who eventually quit the program because he had to open up some of those hidden areas of his life and could not endure being so vulnerable among his colleagues.

Most people want to hide the dark days of their lives. We naturally prefer to show our successes, achievements, and bright colors. But Jane Eyre reminds us that the dark side of life is just as important as the bright side. When an artist paints a picture, the shadows are not unnecessary. The darker colors give depth and shape to the brighter ones.

Behind many successful stories, there are often difficult and painful seasons that nobody sees. Therefore, when we experience success, we should appreciate it humbly. At the same time, we should also accept the difficult seasons—the dark colors—as part of the process by which our lives are shaped. Just as yin and yang exist together, perhaps our lives cannot escape this ordinary truth: light and shadow belong together.

The real question is: What should we do with the dark days of our lives?

If those difficult experiences were part of the journey that brought us to where we are today, perhaps we simply need to acknowledge them and accept them. But I do not believe we need to publicize or boast about them.

I have had a few such experiences myself.

When I was establishing the seminary in Nagaland, India, one of the people who had promised to support the ministry contacted me and told me that, because of difficulties in his business, he could no longer send the mission funds he had promised. I had already made a commitment and had begun the seminary by renting a building. I could not simply stop, nor did I feel comfortable asking other churches for help.

I thought, “I made the promise, so I must take responsibility.”

So I looked through the newspaper and found work in the general business world. It was what people sometimes call a “3D job”—dirty, difficult, and dangerous. I did not spend much time thinking about what the work would be like or how difficult it would be. I simply started.

I did that work for four years, and I used everything I earned to purchase land for the seminary in Nagaland.

Except for my family, I told almost no one what I was doing. I knew what people might say if they found out. Some might ask, “Why would a pastor work for a secular company to make money? Shouldn’t he simply pray?”

Eventually, however, some of my fellow pastors found out.

Looking back, I realize that those four years were one of the “dark colors” in my life. But they were also an important part of the picture. Through that difficult season, I kept my promise to Nagaland and helped establish the foundation for the seminary.

One day, my older brother said something that helped me put the experience into perspective:

“Think of it as a period that has never been in your life.”

I think he was right. I had done what I believed I needed to do. There was no reason to keep carrying the embarrassment or dwelling on those years. Perhaps everyone goes through one or two seasons like that in life.

Our parents may have had difficult seasons they rarely talked about when we were young. Later, they may tell their children about them quite naturally. When that happens, we do not need to judge them. We can simply listen and understand.

The problem comes when someone takes another person’s dark season and keeps using it against them.

This can be especially destructive in interpersonal relationships. It is difficult enough for someone to reveal the things they are ashamed of or would rather keep private. Once we know those things, we should never use them as weapons against that person.

Here in Africa, I encounter many people who have experienced their own “dark days,” although their circumstances may be very different from mine. Poverty, hardship, family difficulties, and many other painful experiences can leave deep wounds. Some of the suffering I hear from students is almost indescribable.

I can sense some of their pain without asking them to explain everything.

Perhaps that is one of the important lessons of caring ministry: we do not always need to know every detail in order to care.

Sometimes we simply need to be sympathetic and empathetic toward the person standing before us. We can respect their silence, honor their dignity, and recognize that behind every person there may be a story of light and shadow.

We should not be ashamed of the shadows that have shaped us. Neither should we use another person’s shadows against them.

Light shows us where we are going, but shadows remind us where we have been. Both are part of the picture.