By: Ginger Hughes
I awoke once more, glancing toward the window. It was still dark. “What time is it?” I wondered to myself, as I groped my way around, searching for my phone.
4:40 a.m. shined brightly on the screen. It didn’t seem possible. The night had already been long, and we still had two hours to go before dawn.
We’d come in at dusk the night before, from a week-long road trip visiting family for Thanksgiving. We walked into a dark, cold house. Unbeknownst to us, an ice storm had hit the night before, causing trees to fall and extensive power outages.
We fumbled our way around inside, making our way first to the fireplace and then to find our extra flashlights, candles, and lanterns. We made beds for the kids on the floor in front of the fire and wrapped ourselves in layers trying to stay warm.
It was so cold. But more than cold, it was so very dark.
We went to bed early, and I awoke multiple times through the night, turning each time to look toward the window, hoping to see light. Each time, I saw only darkness.
When will morning come? I wondered this to myself again and again, and I couldn’t help but think of so many other times in life when we long for the morning. We yearn for the sun’s rays to light up our days and our darkest nights. We long for the warmth to wrap around our souls, enveloping us in joy and hope rather than sorrow or fear.
When we’re grieving the loss of a loved one, and our hearts are overcome by sorrow, we wonder when morning will come. When the word “divorce” slams into our marriage like a wrecking ball, leaving tears and destruction in its wake, we wonder when morning will come. When we’re worn out by life and the striving and toiling to make ends meets becomes unbearable, we wonder when will morning come. When our hearts ache, when our souls feel crushed, when the burdens are heavy, we wonder when will morning come.
When will morning come? When will we see the sun; the only hope to turn our nights into the dawning of a brand new day?
When will morning come? When will we see the Son; our only hope to turn the darkest parts of our lives into something redeemed and beautiful?
On Sunday morning, I awoke one final time, glancing toward the window once more, and there to my relief was the softest wash of light beginning to break through the darkness.
Finally, morning had dawned.
Morning may take some time; in fact, it often does. But keep waiting. Keep watching. Keep hoping.
Though morning doesn’t erase all of the sorrow and pain from the night, it does give us promises of hope for a new day. Because our God is the Redeemer, and He is always doing something new.
-Ginger Hughes is the wife of a pastor, a mother of two and an accountant. She is a Georgia native currently living in the foothills of North Carolina. Her passion for writing is fueled by the desire to offer encouragement, grace and a deeper understanding that we are all God’s children. Her blogging for Nurturing Faith is sponsored by a gift from First Baptist Church of Gainesville, Ga. Additional writings may be found at nomamasperfect.com.