The winter months are my long, cold, dark days. This is when I tend to be pulled to the dark corners of life. The cloud of winter became darker for my family on January 17, 2001 when my 21-year-old sister died in a car accident. Having been raised with laughter and smiles, I was never taught how to handle pain and grief. I would feel guilt for the tears and emotions. If I find the words for God in prayer, it is crying out “Why?! Make it stop!”
Gone is my laughter of praise and adoration. My shouts of Savior, Wonderful Counselor, and Prince of Peace turn to cries with clinched fists, sinking into my bed or my couch. I would carry tremendous guilt for what sometimes felt like a lack of faith. I’m not sure I can give words for it. But for those who also go through dark days, I will try.
I realize my fists are not clinched in anger; they are clinched in the cloth of my Father. My wordless groans are cries of praise, “my Abba, my Papa, my Father, Help, please.” I sink into His arms and His presence. I feel His soft, yet strong voice surround me. “Yes, I know. My heart breaks, too, my child. Shhhhhh. You don’t need to speak. Listen. I’m here. I have you.” I rest and sleep in His assurance and promises, “Rest, my child, our weeping will last for the night. But my Joy comes in the morning.”
Quiet your heart and listen. A great hope and joy is waiting for you in a new awareness of His presence and promises. All things are made new. Weep, but only for the night, as spring is around the corner.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. —Psalms 30:5