Some Dark Morning Hour
“Then, turning to his disciples, Jesus said, “That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food to eat or enough clothes to wear. For life is more than food, and your body more than clothing. Look at the ravens. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for God feeds them. And you are far more valuable to him than any birds! Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? And if worry can’t accomplish a little thing like that, what’s the use of worrying over bigger things?
“Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?
“And don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things. These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers all over the world, but your Father already knows your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he will give you everything you need.
“So don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom.” Luke 12:22-32 NLT
My friend and I sat around watching in the distance as our kids happily played in the pool. It was a day full of laughter, water, and fun. But slowly we started talking of real life moments. We started discussing those moments where the worry about tomorrow plays in your mind over and over again. Worries that make the pit of your stomach grow and your mind feel overwhelmed. Mine come and haunt me in my sleep, especially in the 3 am hour. I wake from a previous restful sleep and my mind turns to worry. I toss and turn and say more “What if’s” than I can count. The “What if’s” continue in a long line of storytelling. A story that never ends well. You are not playing “happily ever after” in your head. You are playing an old cinema realm of worst case scenario on replay. In the dark of the morning your “What if’s” don’t feel like just a possibility. They feel like what will inevitably happen. In this moment it is inescapable, no matter how many times you run over the options in your head.
You are not playing “happily ever after” in your head.
You are playing an old cinema realm of worst case scenario on replay.
In the brightness of day that follows, when I have journeyed through my worry, I remind myself that it probably won’t happen. I desperately hold onto the hope I have found with the morning sun. I know my “What if’s” that haunt me are unlikely. I know that my “What if’s” is just one scenario out of many. I know my “What if’s” are a reflection of my lack of faith. There are so many more possibilities. But in the deep dark hour it is reality. I have learned to run to God’s word. I have several scriptures that I have written down that I read through in those dark nights. Those scriptures bring me back to my faith. It makes the worry that I reflect on over and over again seem small. The first scripture doesn’t transform me but by the time I have read the last one I find peace again. The scriptures bring me hope. It reminds my heart and my head that there is a God I serve that is ultimately in control. This passage in Luke is one of the scriptures that I read through.
The first scripture doesn’t transform me
but by the time I have read the last one I find peace again.
"That is why I tell you not to worry.... (Luke 12:22). The section of scripture above reminds me that those dark night hours will not do me a bit of good. I can say Luke 12:25 from memory “Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Of course not!” I love that the answer to the question is written down so I don’t come up with my own answer. Not a single moment is added. The literal translation is “add a single cubit to his length.” This deep dark hour cannot add even a millimeter in the right direction. This worry, God tells me, is worthless. This worry just proves how small my faith can be at times.
This worry, God tells me, is worthless.
In the morning sun I can now see the ravens and the birds. I can now see the flowers that come up out of the earth. I hold those visual images in my head as a reminder of God’s faithfulness to me. He points them out in scripture. He predestined them to be there and wrote them down. He has them as a sign in front of my face, so I can take a breath and rest in His faithfulness. His faithfulness. His faithfulness to me. So I will proclaim out of scripture. I will give thanks to God where I am and in my moment of weakness. I will sing praises to His name. I will proclaim His unfailing love for me in the morning. I will remind myself of your faithfulness in the evening (Psalm 92:1-2).
