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Waiting For the Dawn

September 8, 2012

In the dark of the night, hope can be hard to find.

When I rocked a sick infant in the dark of the night – hope was an elusive filament that was hard to hold on to.

Despair finds so many hiding places in the dark.

I remember one long, long night,  at an hour not meant for consciousness, when one of my boys started vomiting. He kept going, every thirty minutes, without fail, without rest. I did what I could to clean him up without waking anyone else, and we sat together, he and I, in that darkness, his poor body convulsing over the bucket I held on our lap.

I thought morning would never come.

When Scooby broke his arm in the first grade, I sat alone in a waiting room while the rest of the hospital was asleep. Me, wide-awake, waiting and hoping that the surgery would be over quickly, and successful. Later, driving him home alone, so tired, blinking hard against the few on-coming lights, and wondering what all of these other people were doing, awake, when no one should have been.

Our driveway was bright by the moon as I carried my son, his long legs hanging over my arm, swaddled arm against his chest., numbed by our mutual pain from the ordeal we had just endured. I think, to this day, the mother suffered more that night than the poor, snapped bones of his wrist. There is no sedative for sympathy.

I thought morning would never come.

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1, NIV

When the night seems never-ending, and the dawn a distant memory, this I know for certain:

The morning will come. The night will end.

Confidence in the coming dawn. Faith that the sun will rise, and the darkness will pass.

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Psalm 46: 1-7

Because I was praying with a new boldness and passion, I waited expectantly for God’s response. I stopped praying that silent shrug to heaven, feeling helpless about what was going on in Roger’s life. While I didn’t know how or when God was going to answer that Psalm 46 prayer, I knew it would be answered.

Kathi Lipp

Praying God’s Word For Your Husband

Praying God’s Word affords us a confidence that our prayers are words of action, not simply petition. When we pray God’s words, we are simply praying for His will, His perfect will, to be enacted in the lives of our husbands, our children and ourselves. And this I know for certain, God’s will will be done. The dawn will come. The darkness will pass.


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6 Comments leave one →
  1. September 8, 2012 4:05 pm

    Beautiful, Adelle. Truly.

  2. September 8, 2012 4:28 pm

    Awesome, poignant examples.

    “There is no sedative for sympathy.”

    LOVE this line. I will be pondering it.

    I suspect there is no healthy sedative for sympathy. I’m just now learning how many of my unhealthy parenting choices came from an inability to handle joint suffering.

    • September 8, 2012 4:31 pm

      Oh, Cheri – you are so right! Joint suffering – watching them hurt – is it a learned skill? Or do we just muddle through? I’m sure the answer is in scripture somewhere…I feel your pain, I ache for your pain, but I do not OWN your pain.

      I suspect this gets even harder as they grow older. The hurts get bigger…

      • September 8, 2012 4:56 pm

        I recently heard the concept of learning to “metabolize emotions” — I suspect this is what you just described: feeling, aching for, but not OWNing.

        I don’t know if it gets harder for everyone as they grow older, but I was much better when it was “just” physical suffering!

  3. Kim Paull permalink
    September 8, 2012 5:08 pm

    Always love your blog posts! Poor Scooby, and poor mommy. Thanks for sharing and the reminder of God’s ever presence and strength. (And I love Kathi’s other books, can’t wait to read this new one!)

  4. Christi McGuire permalink
    September 9, 2012 12:29 pm

    I simply love your writing!

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