Deep in the mountains, far from towns and even farther from cities, is my family’s favorite campground. High in the mountains, the sun feels brighter, the heat more direct — until the sun sets. As it begins to go down, the effects of being in a deep valley between mountains quickly become real. Though it’s early, the sun’s disappearance behind the forested mountainside is sudden and jarring. It’s here in this night in the darkest of dark, far from civilization, surrounded on every side, that the stars shine brightest. While the strange rustlings in the underbrush sound louder and nocturnal animals that we cannot see watch our every movement, it almost doesn’t matter. We’re so in awe of the stars. Looking up, it’s not just that the stars are brighter, but that there are even more stars than we had known existed. There are layers upon layers of stars, swirling majestically above our heads. All this beauty and we only come to know it because of the dark night.

The psalmist David understood dark nights. He had his share of troubles and grief. He understood how dark the darkest valley could be. Yet even there he fears no evil. It’s not that evil isn’t present. Just as we were hyper aware of some of the dangers around us when camping, David was not ignorant of those seeking to harm him, of the dangers and temptations that lurked even inside himself. It’s here that he finds comfort not in the absence of darkness, but in knowing who is in the darkness with him. In the darkest valleys, we are not abandoned. In Psalm 23, David writes about the rod and the staff of the shepherd. The Lord not only remains with us in the valley, but He leads us through it. Beside us, behind us, and before us.

This is the beauty of the valley. It’s in the deep dark places that, if only we would look up, we would see the glory of God shine that much more because of where we are. Truthfully though, it doesn’t always feel that way. There are seasons where the valley feels incredibly lonely. Nights when we know the stars are there, but we can’t bring ourselves to look, the despair too heavy. Don’t give up. The nature of our guiding star does not change. Who He is does not waver. Though we might not feel Him, our feelings or lack thereof do not change His nature as a good Father who loves us deeply. It becomes a matter of believing over feeling, of faith over emotion. It’s a matter of trusting that the Good Shepherd will lead us, and that all valleys have an ending. Take a deep breath, remember who is beside you, and look up. The stars are shining.

Engage

• Remember the last time you were in a valley season. Perhaps it was hard to see the stars then, but looking back, how can you see God’s presence and nature in that situation? 
• What goodness has He developed in you or through you because of that season?
• Are you feeling alone in the valley today? Find a fellow believer you can share this with. Not a person to pull you out of the valley, but someone to journey through it with you or, at the very least, be a reminder of the God who has not abandoned nor forgotten you.

Supporting Scripture:

“Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me” (Psalm 23:4a).

Photo: GalapagosFrame/Getty | This article is originally titled “Where the Stars Shine” in the October 2026 issue of The War Cry.