“The dark night of the soul” is a phrase coined by John of the Cross, a mystic and poet from sixteenth-century Spain.1 This term, embedded in Christian mysticism, describes a pivotal juncture in the spiritual journey where the individual feels abandoned by God, plunged into a kind of existential despair. John of the Cross envisioned this dark night not as a divine forsaking but as a vital, albeit painful, phase of spiritual purification and growth. His writings, particularly in his poem “Dark Night of the Soul,” detail this experience of spiritual desolation, in which all senses of comfort and the perceptible presence of God are stripped away, leaving the soul in a state of raw and barren yearning.
The essence of the dark night of the soul is a feeling of spiritual desolation, confusion, and disorientation. It signifies a period when one’s previous understandings of God and faith are challenged, leading to a sense of abandonment and isolation. Yet according to John of the Cross, this harrowing experience is not punitive but transformative. It’s a divine orchestration meant to strip away superficial attachments and deepen one’s faith, cultivating a more authentic, unmediated union with the divine.
- This dark night serves as a crucible, dissolving illusions and ego attachments and ushering the soul into a purer, more mature relationship with God.
For people today, the dark night of the soul transcends its spiritual origin and resonates with anyone undergoing significant personal trials. It has come to symbolize those moments when one feels lost, without direction or solace, often following major upheaval, loss, or existential crisis. This concept offers a lens through which to view our darkest trials not as mere suffering but as opportunities for growth and self-discovery.
Some forms of anxiety, including the dark night of the soul, need to be addressed through counseling, therapy, and medicine and by engaging in a safe, loving, and affirming community. But other forms of anxiety can be addressed only by pouring out one’s soul as an offering to God in worship and prayer.
At the risk of oversimplification, I believe that we can sing some negative emotions out of our souls.
We can sing the sadness out.
We can sing the madness out.
We can pour out our sorrow and disappointment through worship.
In the past few years, I’ve had nights when the painful memory of losing what I’d spent decades building has overwhelmed me with grief. On those nights, I wept until my pillow was soaked, and I played worship music so loud that neighbors three doors down could distinguish every word. Clinging to Jesus like a drowning man to a life preserver, I made it through the night by singing my way into God’s presence. Worship not only kept my soul from falling apart, it kept me alive through the night.
Have you learned to worship in the night?
I’m not talking about worshiping with the lights switched off, although that may be worth considering if you feel embarrassed about how you might appear. I’m talking about worshiping God in the dark night of the soul. Have you learned to worship when the lights have gone off in your world and you feel as if you are one more painful moment away from losing your grip on your sanity? Have you learned to worship when waves of terror wash over your soul? Have you learned to sing as if you are singing for your life, future, and sanity?
I’ve ministered in enough predominantly Black congregations to be familiar with the phrase “I am saved, sanctified, clothed, and in my right mind.” This phrase reflects a deeply held belief that being in Jesus’ presence produces a balm of healing that touches the mind.
Sometimes you have to sing the hell out of your soul. Sometimes you have to sing Heaven into your heart. Sometimes you have to sing your way into your right mind.
- Turning our focus from fear to faith transforms anxiety into deeper worship.
Worship goes beyond the conventional forms of singing and prayer. It is an act of laying bare our fears, anxieties, and uncertainties before God. It is an act of burying our faces in the carpet and pouring out our souls in tears, groanings that cannot be articulated, and songs sung loud enough to drown out the voices in our heads.2 This may be putting my Pentecostal roots on full display, but there is something profound about singing your way through the dark night of your soul. It demonstrates trust in the one who holds your future in the palm of His hand.
Research shows that when we sing or listen to music, our brains release dopamine and endorphins, which make us feel happy and relaxed. It’s a great way to escape our worries, which is probably why it’s good for our mental health. Singing can also help loosen up tight muscles and lower the amount of a stress-related chemical called cortisol in our bodies, helping us feel more at ease.3 But what I’m proposing is more than that: worship is a spiritual weapon against fear, anxiety, and depression.
Worship will sustain your soul in your darkest hour.
1. John of the Cross, Dark Night of the Soul.
2. Romans 8:26–27.
3. Olga Khazan, “Relieve Your Anxiety by Singing It,” The Atlantic, April 13, 2016, www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2016/04/relieve-your-anxiety-by-singing-it/477960/.
Excerpted with permission from Now You Can Stop Running by Terry Crist, copyright Terry M. Crist.
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Your Turn
What if you worshipped during the very hardest situations? What if you took all the fear, doubt, worry, struggle, and pain to Him and declared that He is King, and He is good, and He is in control? What might change for you? ~ Devotionals Daily