Night Vision

Living deep in the hills of East Tennessee, I can see the peaks of Kentucky from my kitchen window when the humidity is low and the sky is just right.

One night in May, I was feeling particularly heavy. My thoughts were scrambled, like a blender full of ingredients with no lid.

“What about that situation at work?”
“Are we ready for the next family road trip?”
“How can I help my friend while she fights the chemo symptoms?”
“What’s the plan for summer with the boys?”
“When’s our next date night? Do we have a babysitter yet?

My mind just wouldn’t settle.

The Stillness of Night

With the boys almost asleep and the house quiet, I stepped out onto the back porch. The darkness was thick, I couldn’t see the tall poplar trees, the barn, or even the distant hills. But the longer I stood there, the more I noticed.

 The hum of the air conditioner.
The cicadas singing their nighttime chorus.
The distant rumble of trucks on I-81.
And then, fireflies. One, two… then dozens.

The backyard lit up like a concert. Something beautiful was happening right outside my door, while I was lost in a world of anxious thoughts just moments earlier.

Sharing the Moment

I went inside to find my oldest son, Jack, still awake, of course. He’s often afraid of the dark, but I wanted to show him what I had just experienced.

We stepped onto the porch together.
“Listen, Jack. What do you hear?” I asked.
We counted fireflies (or tried to). We talked about the night.

Then I said,

“I know the night can feel scary. But look at all this. God made the night just like He made the day. And if there was no night, we wouldn’t see the stars. We wouldn’t hear the cicadas. We wouldn’t see these fireflies.”

Jack thought for a moment and replied,

“I know… but I’m really glad He made the day too.”

That moment, intended to help him, ended up being for me too. I was afraid of the dark. Not the physical dark, but the dark corners of my own mind. The places that are filled with unanswered questions and uncertainty. I was inside my house, filled with anxious thoughts, but right outside the door, there was a beautiful symphony waiting for me to take the time to stop and notice. 

Lessons in the Darkness

After Jack went to sleep (one more sip of water, one more hug), I sat with the thought:

Sometimes we stay inside our own heads for too long. We miss what’s right in front of us.

1 Corinthians 1:27 says:
“But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise…”

Something as ordinary as a quiet porch on a summer night became a holy reminder that God is present, even in the dark.

A Word for the Weary

We all go through dark seasons. Sometimes it feels like the night will never end.

But Psalm 30:5 says:
“…weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

Above that verse in my Bible, it says: “A song of dedication.” I want to encourage you, sing this Psalm. Sing it aloud. Let it remind you: God sees your night. He holds it in His hand.

The final verses of Psalm 30 read:

“You have turned my mourning into dancing; You have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my heart may sing to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.”

I don’t know how long your season of darkness will last. Maybe it’s been a long, hard road or maybe the journey has just begun.

But I know this: His light is enough to carry you through.

Let’s Reflect

As you reflect on your own story, I’d love to leave you with a few questions:

• Have you ever been surprised by how God used something small  to remind you of His presence?
  

• What helps you notice God when your mind feels crowded with worry or fear?

I’d love to hear your experiences. Share in the comments a time when God used something simple to bring a biblical truth to life.  Your story may be the very encouragement someone else needs today.