Liminal: relating to a transitional or intermediate state, stage, or period.
In today’s chaotic and turbulent world, despair often feels like the ruling force in many lives. Trials and troubles have always plagued humanity—but we are living in days when they seem to be multiplying, accelerating, even as “darkness covers the earth and thick darkness the peoples” (Isaiah 60:2).
Yes, we know that the glory of the Lord will rise upon us. We believe in the peace that transcends all understanding. But in the face of daily realities—rising mental health struggles, relentless work-life imbalances, strained relationships, and financial uncertainties—the glimmer at the end of the tunnel can feel like it’s fading.
If you’ve found yourself entering that long, dark tunnel of fear and despair, you probably also know, deep down, that you’re meant to emerge on the other side.
There are only two real hindrances to getting there:
- Choosing to set up camp in the middle of the darkness, or
- Crawling out slowly on all fours, instead of walking tall in the light of truth.
Despair can straitjacket us into paralysis, impotence, and hopelessness. But even then, we are not powerless. God has not left us helpless.
Even when it feels like zealous demons have been assigned to drown us in hopelessness, we know the One whose name makes them tremble. And yet, we often succumb to their lies.
Despair paralyzes the soul.
But Hope—gentle, quiet, insistent—begins to untie the cords of despair, one strand at a time.
She arrives like the first saffron strands in a dawn-expectant sky, delicate but certain, heralding the splendor of the rising sun. Hope reminds us of God’s lovingkindness, His fresh mercies, and His unfailing faithfulness—renewed every single morning.
Hope stirs the fading embers of faith, long buried beneath broken dreams and unmet expectations. And then she breathes on them, rekindling fire.
She never travels alone. Faith and Love are always close behind.
Still, the space between the passing of despair and the arrival of hope can feel like an aching eternity. That liminal space—the in-between—is hard to dwell in, but not impossible. Here are three anchors for the soul as you wait:
Pursue Presence
Pursue—relentlessly—the Presence of the Paraclete. Worship Jesus. Woo the Holy Spirit. Offer the sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving, even when every part of you protests.
And seek the presence of godly, wise people too. Speak to counselors, mentors, and Spirit-filled friends. Don’t suffer in isolation.
Pack the Past
Stop unpacking and repacking old baggage. Zip up the suitcases of regret, recrimination, and rage, and send them on a slow train to nowhere.
God is ready to hand you new, beautiful luggage—designed to carry the gifts, wisdom, and grace for the next part of your journey.
Prophesy Promises
Search out God’s promises and speak them over your life. Declare them over your present and your future. Let Scripture become your sword. Fight back against every lie the enemy whispers with the truth that sets you free.
Remember: we pass through the Valley of Baca (the place of weeping), and we go from strength to strength (Psalm 84). This is an onward and upward journey toward Zion.
Yes, your pain is real. But none of us has endured even a fraction of the betrayal, rejection, torture, and isolation that Jesus suffered. And yet, He loved us to the very end. He forgave us. He descended into the depths of Hades—and then rose to the highest heavens in triumph.
Can’t beat that as an inspiring and impeccable example of a fruitful 3 days of living in the liminal!
