I woke up this morning with one thought on my mind.
Not the way I usually roll.
Most mornings I wake to discover several thoughts racing around in my head.
- What time is it?
- Where am I?
- What can I have for breakfast?
- Am I really the lead singer for the Rolling Stones or was that just a dream?
Today, just one.
Weeping endures for the night but joy comes in the morning.
I looked it up on Google. It was a quote from Psalm 30:5.
Made me wonder,
- if I was morphing into some kind of prophet that would soon take the world by storm with deep revelations from God
- or if I was simply mulling over the events from yesterday?
After staring up at the ceiling for a few moments I decided – this had to be about yesterday.
How could I forget yesterday?
How could anyone else around me forget yesterday?
I sniveled and gasped like a fish flopping on the sidewalk because my son was leaving the country.
But, the moment I dropped him off at the airport, it hit me.
This was his morning.
This was the dawn that had not shined very often in the last few decades of his life.
Mostly, he lived in the shadows of
- Insurmountable obstacles
- Overwhelming disappointments.
I remember praying and praying and praying. Not for hope or dreams to come true. I just prayed that we would somehow survive.
And yet, the morning came.
I know, I know.
There will be other “dark nights of the soul”.
It’s a part of life.
For now, I’ll just enjoy the warmth of the sun on my skin.