Joy in the Dark: My First Memory of Hope

Before I ever knew how to speak, before I could understand the world around me, I believe the Lord placed a seed of hope in my heart.

I was just a toddler... maybe two years old. The room was dark, and I was laying on a bed. I don’t know where we were exactly, but I remember that my dad had just come home from work. I could hear my parents talking in the other room. Their voices were low, relaxed, and then I heard it... laughter. The sound of both of them laughing together.

I didn’t know what they were laughing about, but it filled me with something so warm and bright, I can still feel it now. I remember feeling happy… curious… and hopeful. I wanted to be a part of that. I remember thinking, I hope one day I can talk with them. I hope one day I’ll be able to be in that conversation, to be known, to belong there. I was too young to express it, but my heart was already reaching for connection.

Looking back now, I believe that was God introducing me to the longing we all carry deep down, to belong to something safe, to be known, to be close to love.

That moment didn’t last forever. In fact, it was one of the last moments of pure joy before life as I knew it would begin to unravel. But it stayed with me. The Lord knew I’d need to remember it. Like a gentle whisper in the dark, He gave me a glimpse of what I was made for: relationship, love, laughter, and the joy of simply being with the ones I love.

Even now, I hold onto that memory when life feels heavy. It reminds me that joy is real. That God was there from the very beginning. And that even when things go wrong, there’s a kind of joy, divine joy, that can never be taken from you.

"You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand." - Psalm 16:11