Olivia slumped against the worn, velvet seat, staring out the window as the train chugged along, leaving the station behind. Her thoughts, tangled like the tracks ahead, raced faster than the scenery blurring by. This journey was supposed to be an escape, a moment to catch her breath from the never-ending pressures of life—work deadlines, family expectations, and the gnawing self-doubt that always whispered, “You’re not good enough“. But somehow, this train ride only amplified the emptiness she felt inside.
She passed fields of wildflowers swaying in the wind, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the grayness she felt within. Then came the cityscape, towering skyscrapers and busy streets that mirrored her own frantic, hectic pace. As twilight descended, the train plunged into an all-consuming darkness, erasing everything outside her window. The void felt endless, suffocating, as though it would swallow her whole. Panic welled up inside Olivia, an aching sense of being lost, of not knowing where she was headed or if she’d ever find her way home.
A voice broke her thoughts. “Are you okay?”
Olivia blinked and turned to see a little girl sitting across from her. The girl couldn’t have been more than seven, with big brown eyes and a worn teddy bear tucked under her arm. Olivia managed a weak smile. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a bit tired.”
The girl tilted her head. “You look sad. My mommy says that sometimes we feel sad when we think we’re all alone.” She hugged her teddy bear tighter. “But we’re never really alone, you know? My mommy told me that God is always with us, even in the dark.”
Olivia felt a lump form in her throat. She didn’t want to cry in front of this child, yet something about her innocent words struck a chord deep within. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe that,” Olivia admitted softly, more to herself than to the girl.
“Mommy says that’s why God made the night,” the little girl said, her eyes lighting up as if she were revealing a grand secret. “She says it helps us see how bright His light really is.” She rummaged through her small backpack and pulled out a tiny, worn cross. “Here,” she said, pressing it into Olivia’s hand. “You can borrow this. It helps me remember.”
Olivia stared at the cross, its edges smooth from years of being held, and something shifted inside her. The weight of her worries didn’t disappear, but they didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore. “Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers curling around the cross.
The train lurched forward, and Olivia felt herself swaying with its rhythm. As the darkness outside the window grew even thicker, her panic began to creep back, wrapping itself around her heart like a vice. It felt as though she’d been traveling for hours without moving an inch, without any sign of light. Her mind spun, filled with questions she’d been avoiding for so long: Where am I going? What if I never find my way?
Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on hers. She looked down and saw that it was the little girl’s, tiny fingers clutching Olivia’s with surprising strength. “You’re going home,” the girl said confidently. “You’ve always been going home.”
And in that moment, Olivia remembered something she’d heard once, years ago:
“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
Deuteronomy 31:8
It echoed in her mind, louder than the rattling of the train, drowning out the doubts that had plagued her for so long. It felt like God Himself was whispering it, just for her.
Tears streamed down Olivia’s face, and for the first time in a long while, she let them fall. It wasn’t sadness that filled her now, but a strange, overwhelming sense of peace. As the train emerged from the tunnel of darkness, she saw a flicker of light in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter until it bathed the entire train car in a warm, golden glow.
And there, in the reflection of the window, Olivia saw herself differently. No longer was she the lost, frightened woman running from her fears. She was someone who had been found, someone who was on a journey home. And maybe, just maybe, she was exactly where she needed to be.
The little girl squeezed her hand one last time before letting go, giving Olivia a toothy grin. “See? You’re never alone,” she said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “God’s light always finds us.”
Olivia smiled back, truly smiled, and whispered, “Thank you.” As the train pulled into her station, she stood up, her heart lighter than it had been in years. This night would always remind her of how God, sometimes lets us travel through the dark so we can see just how bright His light truly is.
And in that light, Olivia knew, she would never be lost again.