Sometimes, new beginnings don’t start with silver linings, but are forged through trials in our lives.

Psalms 23:4 –“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

In my heart, that cold January morning, the birds weren’t singing, the sun wasn’t shining. A heavy grey cloud was shadowing over us. The verse kept playing over and over in the fibers of my mind and heart.

Check-in time was just a few hours away. With great reluctance I helped my husband get ready. He was being more resistant than normal. When I asked him why, he said. “Why hurry, when I’m just going there to die.”

In my attempt to comfort him, it became harder to hold back the knot in my throat. My deepest desire was to spew my emotions in agony on the floor and allow the tears to flow. My whole body was crying, yet desired to feel only numbness for the journey, a journey we would soon be taking to hospice.

Our steps and hearts were weighted, knowing he would not be coming back home. No retrieving, only forward, a deeper journey into the valley. Placing our trust in the Lord entirely, knowing the outcome. He was allowing us to enter a sacred place of helplessness, into total humility and brokenness to experience his holy grace and mercy. Understandably, neither one of us spoke along the way. The walk we were taking through the valley that day held two different meanings for two different people.

My steps were slow and grieved, not wanting to check him in. With great reluctance, I released him in the care of the warm and compassionate caregivers. I knew I needed to trust they would make him comfortable and attend to his needs. My heart quivered with deep grief and sorrow. All I wanted to do was run into the arms of Jesus for my husband’s healing and comfort for my troubled heart.

As I walked out the doors that evening, I realized death came to many aspects of my life. I knew the walk through this valley, would eventually come to a close. Yet, would I continue to have the faith to fear no evil, for thou art also with me? Would I continue to seek the comfort of Christ’s rod and staff to protect and guide me and my family as a widow?

My husband endured two more months of failing health, pain and seizures. Many visitors came to offer prayers, smiles and fellowship. Christ’s rod and staff brought comfort to him until he entered into the presence of the Lord’s goodness, mercy and unfailing love.

It seems God does his best work in the valley. He understands the cost for us to painstakingly walk into the shadows and darkness. So, when Jesus says, “Daily, take up your cross and follow me,” do we trust him enough? How eager we are to run to receive the blessings from our Father’s hand on the mountain top. But, after the darkest hour, His light shines anew in our lives when we trust Him enough, even in the valley.