Weeping may spend the night

Daily Office — Morning Prayer, Saturday after Ash Wednesday

Photo by Gadiel Lazcano on Unsplash

I was looking at the readings for the Saturday after Ash Wednesday in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer on liturgical-calendar.com, and this phrase from the Psalter reading jumped out at me:

Weeping may spend the night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:6

What a beautiful image! It is too easy sometimes (especially in the middle of the night) to believe that sadness or mourning will never go away. It’s too easy to be overwhelmed by the pain and anguish sometimes. I mean, I’m a fairly upbeat person, all my friends and family know that. But I have had those “long dark nights of the soul.” And sometimes what I dreaded so much in the dark looks much less oppressive in the light of day.

Despite my aforementioned positivity, I can also spend a bit too much time, especially in the dark of an early morning, doom scrolling on social media. There’s so much out there that can overwhelm even the most optimistic of individuals. But I don’t want to encourage a Pollyannaish sort of “everything will be all right if you have a can-do attitude” approach, either. There are things that happen that take more than a night to work out or work through. Still, I like the metaphorical image from the Psalm, that treats weeping almost like an unwanted visitor who has overstayed their welcome. They may “spend the night,” but eventually…”joy comes in the morning.”

If you’re reading this, and have felt overwhelmed by things that are happening in the world or in your own life, I don’t want to negate those feelings in any way. Things can get overwhelming. Sorrow can take hold of us. But I do hope that you can find a glimmer of hope, a feeling that “this, too, shall pass,” and that light will eventually overcome darkness. I’m reminded of the Prologue to John’s Gospel, the fifth verse:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.

Even if that light in the darkness is the tiniest spark, may it eventually grow into the light of morning, driving out all darkness.