Recently I've been writing about sin and living in the past -- granted, not warm, fluffy topics. Either can get rather depressing, especially considering the difficulty of living a sinless life while focusing on today. But even in the darkness God's light still shines. Sometimes we must remember where we've been to enjoy where we are and have hope for where we're headed.

As I recall where I've been, what often comes to mind are failures -- times when I could've, should've, would've, but didn't. The rush of guilt and regret sweeps me off my mountaintop and I fall rapidly into a deep, dark valley, taking my bruises along the way. But recalling such things are good if I will allow God to use them in changing me.

A failure I've been thinking about lately is not telling my children when they were growing up everything God has done in my life. I've got great excuses. Worked long hours in my practice. Served extensively in the church. Was often tired or sick. Was with them for the "fun stuff". Spoke of God generally. But the reality is that I just never thought to tell them specifically about God and me.

When it comes to failures, we can sit around and feel terrible about our mistakes OR stand up and use them to make a difference. The first leads only to our own misery. The second helps us become the people God has called us to be. But getting there can be difficult and even scary at times.

Once while hiking on the Appalachian Trail, I had an extensive conversation with God about life, disappointment, and the loneliness that at times goes hand in hand with following Him. After lecturing Him on how better it would be if He'd just make my direction clearer, I noticed I'd not been paying attention to the time. There were still 4 hours to go with only two hours of light.

Since this was a day hike, I'd not brought a flashlight or headlamp. No problem. I could use moonlight when it got dark. Even in the forest, that would help me see. But thick clouds rolled in and before I could make it back to my van, I was in total darkness. No moonlight. No starlight. Nothing.

After stumbling over roots and rocks, I sat in the dirt. Going down the mountain would be dangerous, but staying there wasn't much better. The temperature was dropping and I wasn't dressed for a cold night. So I asked God, "What do we do now?" Immediately I knew His answer -- Stand up. That made no sense, but I struggled to my feet. Everything was just as before. The forest, the sky...all black.

Disgusted I looked down, and there stretching out before me was the trail. The moon and stars had not suddenly appeared, nor had another hiker come round the bend. The appearance of the trail had simply changed to something like sand reflecting a faint light. For the next hour I carefully followed the trail, meandering around rocks, boulders, logs and trees, down the mountain to my waiting van.

After stowing my gear, I wanted one last look at the trail. With a small flashlight, I walked several yards into the forest, turned off the light, and waited to make sure my eyes had readjusted. But there was no sign of the trail. Once again, it was just black dirt, invisible in all the darkness.

Moving through failures can be difficult. They send us into darkness, but God's light will show the way to where He wants us to be -- with Him. But we have to take our stand. We have to seek Him. And when He shows us the path, we have to follow. There is no other way.

Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life. John 8:12.