Most nights aren’t glorious.
Most nights don’t include you and your closest friends in your finest clothes posing for a pretty picture.
Most nights remain undefined and you sit in a lot of questions, and the questions ring in your ears at an increasing volume the later the clock ticks.
You eat cereal in the corner of your kitchen while you listen to Adele.
You laugh to keep from crying about the memorable mistakes you’ve made.
You discover yet another song that can make tears fall down your cheeks as you drive around your downtown square.
You look back.
You dream about what’s to come.
You admit to people that take care of you that you’re afraid. You’re afraid of your feelings, and what might happen, and what’s haunting you from the past.
But when you wake up there are mercies
and an orange sun bursting up destroying the night just as faithful as ever promising you that your story matters but it’s not the only one.
There is hope.
There is hope that God does not waste a single ache of your heart. There is hope because it’s not all about our pain. There is hope because the lies we tell ourselves do not have the final say. There is hope that once you crawl through the mud, He will bring you to a wide open space. There is hope that after countless nights of twisting and turning in our turmoil, that we’ll come out of it knowing the heart of God in a brand new way. There is hope for a tomorrow where you will become so invested in His story, that you will be able to see what your story for what it is – important but not the point.
I can’t answer your questions.
You can’t answer mine.
We cannot solve each other’s pain and we are not meant to.
But we grieve when the other grieves, and we rejoice when the other rejoices. We can trust.
We trust in a God who does not torment our plans for His own pleasure, but because He is a good, good Father. We trust in a God who cares about the details of our existence and also weaves our little stories into a bigger and more glorious picture. We trust in a God who out of His own creativity made the stunning distinction between night and day for a reason.
We’re learning how to sing in the night and smile at the sunrise.
God, help us know that You are in our details creating something better and so much bigger than what we can see.
Help us endure the night with singing and grant us strength when morning comes.
Help us trust You. Help us come out of every treacherous night and long day to know You better by the end.
Help us to not be so afraid of the questions.
Be our night song and our morning anthem, Lord.
Night Song – Ellie Holcomb