Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light. (Micah 7:8 NIV)
Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. (Psalm 30:5 NIV)
I’m in the “crunch time” for finishing the arts camp preparation. I won’t go into how much there is to do, but I expect Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to be “rather full” in order to have everything ready for Monday. I try to push aside all doubt – will I really be able to complete all these tasks?? – but it can still seem overwhelming.
Wednesday was an overwhelming day. The plethora of camp tasks to be done was joined with several other things – our son’s surgery was scheduled, the drivers’ education class was selected, and I had a challenging conversation with a vet tech about when it is time to put down our dog who was diagnosed last October with bladder cancer. The vet tech gave me a link to a website that helps families navigate those questions, which was super helpful, but the emotional weight of ALL THESE THINGS was rather a lot.
When I arrived at church Wednesday evening to play for service, I was feeling the emotional weight of all these. Yet, the Lord ministered to my spirit through kind conversations, lovely comments, and his Presence in the service itself. To help alleviate my load, a lady from church sent me home with a full meal for my family. Late that evening I received a friend’s beautiful text praying over camp. The next morning I received a kind and encouraging email from someone I’d invited to the final program. Thursday began to feel lighter.
Yesterday, I drove to the library to get some work done, but before going in, I spent some time walking and praying on the nearby trail. As I walked, I noticed many trees that had been knocked down in last year’s storm. One tree in particular caught my attention — it had a mostly barren trunk, with just three leafy branches left at the top.
In that moment, I felt the words rise in my spirit: “There’s still life there.” I believe God was using that image to encourage me about our dog’s situation. Later, I spoke with a friend who gently affirmed, “You’ll know when it’s time” to let her go.
But for now, she still has life in her — and that is a gift.
Although the phrase “it’s always darkest before the dawn” isn’t found in the Bible, I’ve long believed its truth. When life feels especially heavy or when difficult events seem to come all at once, it can be a sign that a turning point is near. In those moments, we’re called to hold on in faith—trusting that dawn will come, that light will return.
In the waiting, we practice patience and stay attentive to God’s presence and the quiet moments of grace that appear throughout the day.
Today as I prepare for another full day, I am grateful that everything IS coming together for camp. I am grateful that God’s mercies are new every morning. I am grateful that I have the opportunity to do challenging things – like organize and lead an arts camp – that I love to do and are a blessing to many others. I am grateful for moments of encouragement and hope. I am grateful for grace.
God,
Thank you for your grace, mercy, and blessings in every season and every circumstance. Help us to be aware of your Voice and Presence in the midst of “All the Things,” but to stand strong in your faithfulness, knowing that your mercy is renewed every morning. Thank you for being our Light and our Life. We ask for your Spirit to be upon us in all ways and places this day, in Jesus’s name, AMEN.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23 ESV)