They Sing in The Dark
“My soul still remembers and sinks within me. This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I hope in Him!” The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” Lamentations 3:20-26 (NKJ)
Summer has arrived and as is the way of the weather in Atlantic Canada leading up to summer, we often transition through 4 seasons in a day. With summer’s arrival yesterday, came heat and humidity – a lot of it – a sudden change from the wet and cold of the week before. Being in a transitional stage of life, where temperature regulation is not my strong suit, and with the combination of heat and humidity and unpredictable “tropical moments,” I have started to sleep with the fan on and the window open overnight.
I must say that the fresh air flowing in through the window at night and first thing in the morning has been refreshing. Even Nico, the cat, enjoys it – spending much of his time sitting with his little nose in the air- “sniffing” the breeze as it enters the room.
Very early this morning, I woke to a beautiful song. It was very dark in the room as I opened my eyes, looking around for the source of the melody. I was still sleepy and it took me a few moments to figure out where it was coming from.
It was the birds in my backyard.
It didn’t make much sense to me – it was still so dark outside- not even a hint that morning was coming or had arrived.
I laid back on my pillow and thought about this.
Jesus whispered softly to me- “They sing because they know what is coming.”
I imagine you stopped by to skim through this blog quickly- but don’t rush too quickly past this word: “They sing because they know what is coming.” Stop here and sit with this for a moment.
Does this speak to you? In what way? What are you hearing, at this moment?
The birds outside my window sing in the morning, in the dark, before a sliver of light can be seen.
They sing because it is morning –
Although they can’t yet see the light
They sing because they know what is coming.
In Psalm 61:1-4, we hear the Psalmist’s heart. “Hear my cry, O God; attend to my prayer. From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For You have been a shelter for me, a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide in Your tabernacle forever; I will trust in the shelter of Your wings. Selah”
In time of trouble, and overwhelm, a cry flows from the Psalmist’s lips. To Whom does he cry out? His spouse, his family, his friends, his Pastor, church family, neighbours, strangers in the grocery store or his counsellor? Perhaps at some point and at some level. But this cry, the one that comes when he finds himself at the end of the earth, this cry flows out to God. Why? Because the Psalmist knows that there is a Rock, a Rock that is a shelter and a strong tower; a place of peace and comfort and compassion. A place in God’s presence that can not only bear the cry of his heart but can also respond to it.
Perhaps the birds sing in the dark, when there is not even a sliver of light because they know the safety and warmth, the refuge, of that place under the shelter of His (God’s) wings.
Lamentations 3:20-26 reads: “My soul still remembers and sinks within me. This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I hope in Him!” The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.”
Perhaps the birds sing to usher in the compassions of the Lord that are new every morning, in hope, in the quiet of the yet darkness.
In Jeremiah 29:11, we are reminded: “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”
We often take this verse and think, “Yes, God has a plan, right now, a good plan, right now, everything is wonderful, right now.”
It is important, though, to read things in context. The verse before, Jeremiah 29:10, gives us that context.
This is what the LORD says: “You will be in Babylon for seventy years. But then I will come and do for you all the good things I have promised, and I will bring you home again.” Jeremiah 29:10 (NIV)
If we put that all together, things look a bit different:
“This is what the LORD says: “You will be in Babylon for seventy years. But then I will come and do for you all the good things I have promised, and I will bring you home again. For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:10, 11 (NIV)
The Lord had good plans for the people, plans for a future and a hope, AND they would remain in captivity in Babylon for seventy years.
Yes, God had a plan, for right now and for later, a good plan, for right now and for later, AND things were going to be hard, right now, before they were going to get to go home, later.
I often wondered why God told the prophet this. Maybe to give the people a hope, not just for later, but a hope that would sustain them through the “captivity” of now.
Perhaps the birds sing because even as they sit in the dark, they have hope that the light will come.
Maybe you find yourself in the dark, this day, without a sliver of light showing through the blackness around you. May you be like the birds in my backyard early this morning, singing.
Cry out to God- He is the Rock that is a shelter and a strong tower; a place of peace and comfort and compassion. He can bear the cry of your heart, and can also respond to it.
May you sing in the dark, when there is not even a sliver of light, because you know the safety and warmth, the refuge, of that place under the shelter of His (God’s) wings.
May you sing in the dark, in hope, in the quiet of the “yet darkness” to usher in the compassions of the Lord that are new every morning.
May you sing even as you sit in the dark because you have hope that the light will come- God has a plan for good and not for disaster – a plan for your future after the captivity– a plan you need to hold onto now; a hope in the midst of your captivity that will get you through to the other side of the darkness.
The birds outside my window sing in the morning, in the dark, before a sliver of light can be seen.
They sing because it is morning –
Although they can’t yet see the light
They sing because they know what is coming.
As I listened to the birds sing this morning- I watched the rays of the sun slowly make their way across the sky and into my room, spreading out across the hardwood floor; a beautiful testimony of what happens when we choose to sing in the dark.
May that be my testimony and your testimony as well.
Until next time!
laurie