The Glimmer of Morning Light
It was our first Sunday back to church since the accident. We purposefully sat near the back in case we needed to make a quick getaway. My senses were heightened as I watched people with a new set of eyes. I numbly observed my brother’s and sister’s in the Lord smiling and joyously clapping as they worshipped the Lord in song. The lump in my throat prohibited me from any singing that day; the only worship I had to offer was one of brokenness and tears. In my grief-stricken state, I silently wondered if I would ever feel the joy of the Lord again.
I excused myself to the restroom while skillfully avoiding our greeting time. I got myself into the bathroom and ran into a dear sister in the Lord. She greeted me with a kind “hello” and I fell into her arms and sobbed on her shoulder. She patiently held me tight allowing me to weep; the Lord met me there with sweet Penny that day. Finally, I sat back down next to my family armed with a handful of kleenex and inhaled deeply. I couldn’t help but glance down the row and remember that just a few Sunday’s ago our dear Justin was sitting right beside me. Once the service ended, we made a beeline for the door. I felt like I had just run an emotional marathon.
In those first few months, I had many sweet friends sending me messages of prayer and encouragement. A Scripture that I repeatedly received was Psalm 30:5b: “Weeping endures for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” I pondered this truth and wondered when my “morning” would come. I found a beautiful chapter answering this question in the book, “Suffering and the Sovereignty of God“. The chapter is entitled, “Waiting for the Morning during the Long Night of Weeping. (I have linked to a free download for this book, it is quite worth the read). I found comfort and relief as I related to this statement:
“It is faith in our good and sovereign God that enables us to wait until the morning. But we must never forget that often the night is long and the weeping uncontrollable.” Dustin Shramek
Yesterday, seven months later, I realized that I am seeing a glimmer of the morning light. It was almost breakfast time and I was just sitting down to my first cup of coffee. Randomly, I started singing a song of praise. Our six-year-old Luke said, “Oh Mommy, that song sound really good.” I think I said something like, “Oh honey, do you like that song?”. The day went on and I didn’t think much about it. It was a few hours later and unbeknownst to me, Luke was standing at our bedroom door, I happened to be singing that same song. Again Luke said, “Oh Mommy, that song sounds so good!”. Now it clicked, I was singing songs of praise with a joyful heart! The more I thought about it, the more I rejoiced. Luke took such delight in my song (definitely not because of my singing voice), but because to his little heart it was like the first signs of Spring, it represented life and hope!
My circumstances have not changed; I will not see Justin again until I am with him in Heaven. But, I have a God who is the author and giver of grace. In His grace, I have hope.
Forever clinging to Him,