My Father's Light
- Curt Brickley
- Jul 3
- 4 min read
Everyone eventually walks through storms and seasons of darkness that test your soul.
Some will face heavy shadows and difficult valleys. Others will descend into a darkness so deep it feels like there is no way out. You may wonder if it’s better to mourn the living and envy the dead. You may feel utterly alone even when surrounded by people who love you. Some will reach the edge and think ending it all is the only way to stop the pain.
But there is Light. And that Light is brighter than the darkest ocean of despair.
Personal Reflection
In 2024, 48,824 Americans died by suicide. Suicide remains the second leading cause of death for Americans ages 15–34. On average, one person dies by suicide in the U.S. about every 11 minutes. Each suicide intimately affects at least 6 other people.
Globally, more than 720,000 people die by suicide every year — roughly one person every 43 seconds.
Many years have now passed since I was pulled from that same unforgiving ocean. This was the darkest period of my life. I won’t bore you with all the pain and circumstances that carried me into the deep waters of desolation. It matters not the route you take to get there — many roads lead to the same destination.
If you’ve never been to this place, I don’t think you can ever fully understand. There is no hope. At the end of the tunnel there is no light. It is cold and black. You are alone. None of the love from friends or family seems to matter. Endless hopelessness becomes your only reality, and you will go to any lengths to stop the pain.
Here’s the thing though — “alone” is a lie.
It was dark and late. There were no other cars on the road as I approached the bridge at high speed. I was sobbing, crying out to God, “Why? Why me?” My truck tires were throwing gravel as I left the pavement. Just seconds before impact, Jesus took the wheel. I swerved away from the bridge and came to a stop on the shoulder.
With my head on the steering wheel, weeping, I reached into the console, grabbed an old envelope and a pencil, and began to write. The words flowed effortlessly, line after line. These are the words that rescued me that night — the words that gave me hope and a future and reminded me I was never alone.
Theme
It’s questions, not answers, fillin’ my head… Blind I am, but still I see a man on his knees.
Out of the silence, a voice from deep inside: “I’ve not forsaken you; I’m your conscience and your guide.”
This song is Jesus speaking directly to the broken, the despairing, the one ready to give up.
Rise up, I say, I’m the Son of our Lord. I gave you the Bible — your strength and your sword. Stand up and be strong; prepare to fight. Soon we’ll walk together on streets of gold, In the awesome glory of My Father’s Light.
Scripture Foundation
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)
“…the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things…” (John 14:26)
“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair…” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)
“…we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast…” (Hebrews 6:18-19)
Processing Questions
Take a few moments and reflect:
Have you ever felt so hopeless that ending it all seemed like the only option?
Where in your life right now do you feel alone in the dark, even if others are around you?
What “questions not answers” are filling your head today?
If Jesus were speaking directly to you in your darkest moment, what would you need to hear?
Who around you might be quietly drowning right now that needs to know they are not alone?
Prayer
Father, for everyone right now who is driving toward their own bridge — emotionally, spiritually, or literally — Jesus, take the wheel.
Speak into their darkness. Break through the lie that they are alone. Remind them that You have never forsaken them. You are their conscience, their guide, their hope.
Give them the strength to swerve away from destruction. Give them words of life on the back of whatever envelope they can find. Fill them with the sure and steadfast hope that is the anchor of the soul.
And for those of us who have been rescued, give us eyes to see the hurting and courage to point them to Your Father’s Light.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Closing
If you are in that dark place right now — hang on.
You are not alone. Jesus is right there with you. He still takes the wheel. He still speaks. He still gives hope.
Cling to Him. There is Light. There is a future. There are streets of gold waiting in the awesome glory of My Father’s Light.
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