For ten minutes, I stared at my phone screen in awe as friends across the country shared pictures of the northern lights dancing in the sky. I scrolled, captured by the wonder, until an image from my own town filled the screen and suddenly I couldn’t get outside fast enough. Pulling a sweatshirt over my pajamas, I slipped my feet into sandals and stepped outside, eyes up, eager and expectant.
There was no denying the crystal clear shot of pink I saw online that stretched above my friend’s apartment rooftop mere miles away, a muted but still present surprise on a Friday night in Alabama. The northern lights traveled south, a sight many never have the chance to see, and my smile stretched wide as I hurried down the steps, ready to bear witness.
A deep, dark blue waited for me. Turning in circles, I pulled out the compass app on my phone to make sure that, yes, I was definitely facing the right direction. With hope still rising inside, I raised my phone to take pictures of what appeared to be an extremely ordinary evening sky. Maybe the colors would show when seen through the camera lens, I thought.
But still, nothing.
I waited, I watched, and eventually, I turned to walk back inside. The sky above was its regular nighttime blue, and instead of a rainbow, the captured images showed an oddly pixelated smear.
The wind caught my hair, strands blowing across my face, and I thought of my friend standing under the same sky. It’s wild, isn’t it? How two people can have a very different experience of the very same thing – a conversation, an illness, a celebration, even the northern lights. And it’s true, isn’t it, that grief can unexpectedly color a year and smear itself over absolutely everything yet remain largely unseen by the naked eye.
But as I zoomed in on the image, the strangest thing took my breath away. Two thoughts arrived in quick succession, one right after the other:
Man, that’s a bummer…
Huh, that’s kinda pretty though…
The tension of the two together surprised me more than the northern lights traveling south.
Disappointment and sadness understandably appeared, but curiosity and unexpected appreciation for the blurry beauty quickly followed. Like a pair of glasses with one near-sighted and one far-sighted lens, both had something to say but neither told the full story.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer the rainbow and not the smear, the delight and not the disappointment. I’d rather receive the surprise of bright colors dancing in the sky than the deep, dark blue. After a decade of waiting and asking God to bring physical healing to a chronic illness… after thousands of prayers that God would restore the years the locusts have eaten… after hoping for a miracle for so very long… of course I’d pick that in a heartbeat, wouldn’t hesitate to choose the light and not the night.
What I’ve come to know, though, is that God is in the night too. He’s present in the blur and the smear, holding us close in the surprise we didn’t want and would never choose, looking at us with kindness as we lift our heads and look up with hope, helping us see the beauty that still is and always will be.
Maybe one day I’ll see the northern lights and I’ll be so amazed that I dance below the dancing sky. Maybe one day the longed-for answer to long-prayed prayers will arrive. For now, though, the assurance that God is with us in both – bearing witness to joy that can’t be contained and grief that’s mostly unseen, with us as we weep and as we rejoice – is manna for the day and a refuge in the night.
Psalm 139:12 (ESV) says, “Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” and Psalm 74:16 (NIV) declares, “The days is yours, and yours also the night.”
Scripture is clear: darkness exists. But the repeated promise remains: we won’t face the night alone.
It may seem like we’ve been waiting for morning for a very long time, but we have not been left behind or lost, forgotten or abandoned. His eyes remain on us, His presence ever with us, no matter how deep or long or dark the night.
One day not too long from now, the “night will be no more” (Revelation 22:5). But for now, for today and tonight and tomorrow, we can rest assured that yes, joy is going to come with the dawn… but God isn’t going to leave us during the night.
He sees us, and He will sing us through the shadows until morning arrives.
Wow. That was amazing. It really spoke to me. Thank you
I’m so glad it met you where you are, at the right time!
AMEN!
Dear Kaitlyn……..What a wonderful and unusual story. I have always wanted to see the Northern Lights and here in PA we actually had a small chance to do that; however, it was very cloudy that night so we did not have a chance to see it. I was disappointed, but we are not in an area that would be able to see it. The solar eclipse we did see a couple of months ago and that was amazing. I have been facing a very difficult situation for the past 16 months. Kaitlyn, there is one thing maybe you could explain to me that I just can’t quite grasp it. I pray about this situation for the last 16 months and I do it frequently through the day, but I haven’t heard from Him and I know God works on His own timeline, but at this point I sometimes think He is punishing me for something, but I don’t know what it would be and I have asked Him with no response. I am 77 years old and my son has told me that he no longer says I am not his mother but a liar. A truly heartbreaking thing. He hung up on me. My husband has the “violent type of dementia” and I had to have him evicted from our house of 40 years. The doctors kept telling me if I couldn’t convince him that he was ill after 3 and a half years, and my son would not support me and took his father’s side, that it was just old age, but I read part of the report from the Pyschoneuroligist to him had he said that I made it up. All my support groups and doctors said I now had to think about my safety. They didn’t want to tell me this is the beginning, but they said I had tried to help him longer than most . Then they dropped the bombshell. Asked if I had guns in the house, I replied, Yes, my husband was a hunter, they said he will get one of those guns when he is in one of his “Dementia Rages” coupled with being drunk and come to where you were in the house , shoot and kill you and 10 minutes later come back in the room and say “Who did this to my wife?” He would never remember that he did it. I knew then I needed to do something. There is much more to this story, but I do not want to bore you with it. Do you have any idea if the Lord is punishing me for something? These stories by (in) I get every day and I love them. Have Blessed Day, Kaitlyn. Betsy Basile
Betsy, I am so sorry for the hurt and pain you have experienced – and are still experiencing! There is so much in your comment here, and I’m certain it goes even deeper, even further, than what you have shared. I am praying for you today by name, and am asking our kind and compassion friend Jesus to speak louder than any lies. He is a Good Shepherd who goes after His sheep, not to punish but to take care of their wounds and carry them Home.
You words beautifully capture life…creation evident through our Creator!
Thank YOU!
Awwwww Thank you Kaitlyn. Amazing beautiful reminder to start my day
Never stop looking up \0/
Thank you thank you!!!
Just what I needed to hear today
God bless you
Shalom
Susan ( England)
Susan! How fun to see you’re reading this across the pond! 🙂 Thank you for being here.
“And it’s true, isn’t it, that grief can unexpectedly color a year and smear itself over absolutely everything yet remain largely unseen by the naked eye.”
I have found this to be so true. The grief is compounded by well-meaning “friends” who simply do not see and suggest it’s time to move on from this messy season, as if it’s a matter of flipping a switch.
Thank you Kaitlyn. Your words brought me comfort. We are all here to serve. I hope I may serve someone here too with my story.
God bless you.
Thank you, June, for this encouragement. I’m so grateful God used the words to comfort you, and am certain He’ll use yours to comfort another.
Kaitlyn,
Going through trials is never easy. I remember the trials I had with my parents’ dementia/psych issues. Daily prayers were answered two years later when God took mom home. She would never get better only worse. That is why I celebrated. Dad got to the point where I had to put him in gero psych unit twice. Spent much time in lobby just crying. Asking God what to expect & why don’t you take him now? After 1 month dad was better. Then he had a stroke & back he went. This time though God took him home. Both times were sad. It was God in the night that got me through those rough times.
Blessings 🙂