Finding Faith in Darkness

“So we are always of good courage…for we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:6-7 NKJV)

Over the weekend, my husband and I hiked with our son along a “rails-to-trails” pathway in southwest Virginia. The Guest River Gorge Trail, once a coal train bed belonging to the Norfolk-Southern Railway, now allows trekkers to skirt the scenic river’s edge and cruise through a short tunnel on the way.

The Swede Tunnel, carved in 1922, is short. The middle is rather dark, although it’s not terribly claustrophobic because the other end of the passageway is clearly visible and illuminated by sunshine. But after seeing a large snake on one of the trail bridges, I wasn’t too keen to linger in the gloom on the way back through the tunnel.

Tunnels are fascinating constructions. We have quite a few in southern Appalachia, allowing trains and cars to navigate through obstructing mountainsides (two such tunnels are in my neighborhood). Tunnelways that are longer than a few feet warrant an obnoxious honking of our car horn in the middle of the passage. My dad, in his younger days, would relish making his Model T backfire and echo while inside the railroad overpasses of Memphis—an unexpected explosion to other drivers nearby.  

Tunnels are engineering marvels, made possible by careful calculating and blasting to remove rock from just the right spot in the right amount. The ones in our area still hold up tons of trains every day, admirable feats after more than a century. There are many other very long tunnels in the world, especially the ones that cross under bodies of water—those really give me the creeps! 

What makes underground tunnels difficult to tolerate is the sheer absence of light in some of them. Have you ever been in a tunnel like that? No end in sight. No light available in the middle. A ticket to hopelessness. 

If you take a trip like that every day, maybe you get used to the temporary nature of the blackout conditions outside your train or car. You know that it won’t be forever, and you’ll emerge before too long back into the warmth and comfort of sunlight.

But what about life’s “tunnels”? The ones that don’t promise an exit timeframe, if there even is one? 

These passageways can be frightening. But they can also be character-building—if we walk by faith and not by sight.

When you’re in a black hole, knowing you must keep moving, it’s very difficult to find your way without falling into despair. It requires holding on to the hand of the One who is with you wherever you go, above or below ground. It means continuing to put one foot in front of the other, trusting in the faithful, powerful Good Shepherd.

I don’t profess to have that perfect peace when intense fears threaten to suffocate me. Sometimes I have only Scriptures (usually the Psalms) to help me walk through the darkened passageways of terror and death. But those verses have been all I need during many of those occasions…with prayer.

Friend, when you traverse through “tunnels” and can’t see God’s light, take comfort and refuge in His word. He will never abandon you, never let the darkness swallow you up, never allow you to lose all hope. Trust His promises. Have faith in His power. Reach for His hand.

One thing about tunnels—you will always exit to a new place, a different landscape, a place to begin again. For some, it may be to a new direction for serving Jesus. For others, the departure side may be at the gates of heaven and the glorious life that awaits us there. 

In either case, take courage in knowing that the love of Christ is with you, wherever you go. Even in the darkest of tunnels.

Blessed Jesus, thank You for Your faithfulness. Help me to walk not by sight but by faith in Your incredible power, the promises of Your word, the testimony of those who have walked before me. Be with me in dark moments, and lead me by Your hand into Your marvelous light. Let me hear Your voice and rely on You to carry me through. In Your loving name, Amen.

Nancy C. Williams is a Christian wife/mom with a writing career spanning more than 40 years in business and journalism. Williams is the author of the novel To Love a Falcon and the devotional book A Crocus in the Desert: Devotions, Stories, and Prayers for Women Experiencing Infertility. Her blogs are featured on Crossmap.com and AriseDaily. To follow Nancy’s posts and news, go to her home page at NancyCWilliams.com and subscribe at the bottom. 

© Copyright 2025 Nancy C. Williams (text and photography). Unless otherwise noted, Scripture verses are taken from the New King James Version®, Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. #tunnel #guestrivergorge #darkness #underwatertunnel #railstotrails #southwestvirginia