It’s midnight. And as the second hand passed the twelve. The page turned to October 23. Twenty-three officially marks a year. One year. An anniversary. There will be no parties. No candles. No presents. No, this anniversary is of the day my daddy died.
They say this day ends the year of firsts. But is there really ever an end of firsts? Life is full of them. Because the world still spins. The sun still rises. The sun still sets. And even if you feel stuck. Life does not stop. And you can choose not to participate. Because it is a choice. Every. Single. Day. A choice to lean hard on He who controls the universe, or slip down hard and pull covers over head. Shut out the world that goes on spinning.
But He knows. He knows your sorrow. He knows the weeping. He knows it took everything you had in you to make it through the day before. He knows there is nothing left. And He offers a choice.
Joy. His joy comes in the morning. Joy. It springs from deep in your soul. It’s everlasting. It bursts you wide open. It comes despite your circumstance. It does not change it. Joy. It changes you. And it is a choice.
So, on this first year anniversary and all the firsts that will come… I choose joy.
And God whispers, I’m here.
I am right here.
…but joy comes with the morning.