Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.
There are those days where nothing goes right.
Or you’re wearing crabby pants and can’t get them to come off.
Or where you get bad news after already having bad news and bad news.
Or where some long buried grief rears it’s head once again and you just spend the day crying.
At our house, when my daughter has a moment of pushing back against the parental units, we often remind her that tomorrow is new day.
A chance to start over.
So we’re just gonna go to bed, and let tomorrow be tomorrow, and today be today.
As fixers, we like to DO something to make a day better.
We tell each other and ourselves what we need to do
Go for a walk.
Or a run. (though if you’re like me that makes it worse somehow)
Or do yoga.
Or go out with friends.
And some of that does work.
But sometimes, it’s just the day.
And the only way to make it better is to end the day.
Go to bed.
Get some rest.
And then wake up to a new day.
Sometimes, this happens.
It’s literally just a matter of letting the worst day happen, be done and moving on.
And that’s awesome.
Then you can wake up and remember this verse and embrace the joy in the moment.
But sometimes, this verse is figurative.
And the weeping filled-night lasts a long time.
More than one night.
And you are just waiting for the new day.
The morning to come.
And it feels like it never will.
Let me tell you right now.
It. Does. Come.
It’s not always immediate.
But no matter how long the night, the new day, and joy, do come.
Sometimes, the joy comes because you don’t feel the pain as acutely as the day before.
Like a baby-step away from the weeping night.
That’s all it takes.
I have a friend who says that sometimes after you’re really sick, like with the flu, and you wake up that first day and think you might be able to get out of bed and maybe even eat something, and it feels amazing.
To someone else it might be just average-feeling, maybe even still pretty bad in comparison, but you know what really bad feels like so it’s time to celebrate not feeling awful.
This whole psalm (psalm 30) is a celebration of promises kept.
The author is rejoicing in the joy that has come,
while also not forgetting how bad things were.
This psalm is a reminder that yes, things might not be great right now.
They might not be the way we had hoped they’d go.
They might even be really, really bad.
But there is joy to come.
Even in the midst of the worst, there is joy to come.
Even better, God promises.