The Sun Will Rise

The Sun Will RiseSome nights last longer than other nights. Some darknesses are bigger than other darknesses. I have felt this to be true in my own life, and so I know it to likewise be true for others. I have carried the stinging ache of a wound that won't seem to heal, and known, against all odds, a stubborn ember of hope pushing me toward the light. During the more intense seasons of insomnia, when that shadow of night seemed to stretch and stretch its finger

Some nights last longer than other nights. Some darknesses are bigger than other darknesses. I have felt this to be true in my own life, and so I know it to likewise be true for others. I have carried the stinging ache of a wound that won't seem to heal, and known, against all odds, a stubborn ember of hope pushing me toward the light. During the more intense seasons of insomnia, when that shadow of night seemed to stretch and stretch its finger across my life, it would seem as though the night would never end. I would find myself in despair, panicking about the possibility of another another evening carrying me into dawn without a proper close. It felt almost criminal to be awake in these quiet hours, when all the world was fast asleep, their bodies healing, storing up energy for the coming day, and I, awake, alone, held captive in another night of endless black.

Some nights I managed to remind myself that God would provide everything I needed for the next day. Other nights I could only weep and cry out to Him for deliverance. I would picture myself in His arms, my head cradled on His lap, gentle fingers working at my curls, snarled from hours of restless pillow battles. I would ask Him, “Why? Why is this my cross?” I would argue and plead barter, desperate to rid myself prematurely of this gift He had given me; a gift that would press and press and press at me, hardening weak points into diamond-like strength and eventually developing a mental fortitude I didn’t currently possess but would need in the coming years when I became a mother.

And Jesus would sit with me, listen to me, knowing my pain, knowing it as His own. And when I finally became wise and surrendered in His arms, He held me, calling me to remember His promises. The light will always come. The sun will always rise.