I remember the darkness, the smell of dirt, and the fear that no one would find me.
“It’ll be great, he said. No one will ever find you here.”
I had fallen for my older brother’s bad ideas before. When he suggested I hide in a posthole during a game of hide and seek, I should have known it wouldn’t end well.
I was just a kid, small enough to fit in, feet first, with my arms down at my sides. The damp, cold dirt was so close to my face I could see nothing. Like the proverbial stone rolled in front of the tomb, a clump of grass sealed my fate. My brother was right; nobody found me. He told the others I had quit for the night and they all went inside.
I called for help but no one could hear me. I screamed but could tell there was no point. Trapped, alone and afraid, I waited. Perhaps someone noticed I was missing or my brother thought I’d had enough when he finally came to set me free.
I’m pretty much a grown up now. I’m proud to say, I never got in a posthole again. When situations arise that make me feel a similar kind of stuck, I pray. When I feel like I’m screaming and no one can hear me, when my hands are tied and there is nothing I can do to help myself, I look to God. I know with Him I am never lost or alone. He is with me in every kind of trouble.
God will never leave us in darkness and He will always set us free.
The exile will soon be set free, and will not die in the dungeon, nor will his bread be lacking.
Isaiah 51:14 (NASB)