“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in His word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than the watchman wait for morning, more than the watchman wait for morning.” (Psalm 130:5-6 NIV)
Watchman wait for morning like their lives depend upon it. We must understand, night in ancient Israel was not like night in modern America. We fall asleep in safety and wake again in relative peace. We hear a noise in the night and we can flip a switch and flood the house or lawn with light. This was not so, three thousand years ago when palm-sized lamps dimly lit one’s way. Torches didn’t do much against darkness: the shadows were deep and the enemy devious. Morning, however, meant relief. Morning dissolved the darkness as the sun rose and shed light on a new day. Morning meant rest for the weary watchman.
When we think about life before modern wiring, we realize that winter nights were longer than summer nights. On a June day in Israel, the sun shines a little more than 14 hours, but in December, only 10. Though we possess the power to flip on the lights today, we still experience waiting, even longing for God to break through our personal darkness. Sometimes these nights are short-lived, morning comes quickly. In other seasons, the night stretches on and on.
The truth is, we can worry our way through the night or we can worship our way through the night. One way is exhausting, the other is restorative. When it’s your turn to stand as a watchman, how will you wait?
“When we are waiting, we are doing one of our most important spiritual tasks.” (Peter Scazzero)
The longer I live, the more I’m convinced: these evening seasons are intentional. Just as our physical bodies need rest, our souls require stillness to process all that has already happened to us. Nighttime serves our system’s felt needs. Stillness tends to our souls in the same manner. When our days are crammed with stimuli, waiting on the Lord becomes imperative.
“We wait for our souls to catch up with our bodies.” (Eugene Peterson)
I’m additionally convinced: we aren’t fans of rest anymore. We want entertainment. We want to check out for a while. We are looking for numbness; nothingness. We’d prefer to anesthetize the hard things so we can move through them without any additional pain. But we don’t grow when we can’t feel anything. When we skip past rest – intentional stretches of absolute trust in a good God – we skip past the part where we come to terms with His sovereignty, we skip past the part where we make peace with His good plan. We run from discomfort and eventually it catches up with us in an undeniable way. Skipped Sabbaths result in forced Sabbaths. But, when we incorporate waiting and rest into our daily rhythm, we allow our soul room to cope with the difficulties and disasters of every day life. If we’ll take the time heal a little bit every day, eventually we’ll heal all the way.
“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” (Psalm 27:14 NIV)
Lord, forgive us for our impatience in the night. Help us to learn to invest our wait in worship, not in worry. Accomplish all You please in our dark hours. Meet us anew every morning, with fresh mercy and brightest hope. And may our memories of Your faithfulness continue to carry us through even the longest, darkest evenings still ahead. Amen.