One restless night, while on a silent retreat a few years ago, my heart was experiencing a lot of pain. I tend to pray when I can’t sleep, and that night was such a raw, authentic experience of my poverty. I was clumsily navigating a strange combination of disappointment, fear, depression, and grief. Tears dampened my pillow because I felt very stuck. My spirit felt paralyzed with weakness, and I did not understand what the Father was doing.
It felt very dark, but there was a deep grace in prayer when I felt the presence of Jesus’ nearness and heard Him quietly whisper to my heart, We have to wait for the dawn. So, we waited together, with my rather dim light of hope.
This experience seemed to echo David’s prayer today in Psalm 30, “At nightfall, weeping enters in, but with the dawn, rejoicing.” However, I wasn’t rejoicing and dancing that next morning. The healing Jesus is doing in my heart has taken time. A lot of time. But Jesus is faithful, and He has given me joy.
Did you notice the thread in today’s readings of sorrow being transformed into joy? They are connected realities. And no matter where you find yourself today, know that in His perfect time, hearts that have been wounded with sorrow will be healed with joy.[Tweet “Know that in His perfect time, hearts that have been wounded with sorrow will be healed with joy.”]
Re-read the Psalm. Memorize it. Take it to heart. Believe the healing is possible.
Rose Coleman is a contemplative in action who delights in all things beautiful. Her adventurous heart has traveled many places—from circumnavigating the globe on a ship during college to some years in the convent as a religious sister. Exuberant from her childhood, she is an elementary school teacher who learns so much from her students. You can find out more about her here.