The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow!
“The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow!
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow…
There will be Sun!”
Growing up, this is a song my Mama would sing to me when I had a bad day. I remember when my first boyfriend broke up with me. In my 8th grade mind, I felt like my world was over. I was devastated. I remember my mom singing this to me. She continually said, “Nicolet, the sun is going to come out tomorrow!”
When my eyes peeked open the next day, I remember the sun streaming through my bedroom window and thinking, “Well, I guess she was right.” Each following day, the sun continued to get a little brighter, and my days got a little better. I would quickly find out that in the grand scheme of things this was a small heartache, but it taught me and prepared me for the greater hardships that would come.
Almost one year ago, Preston and I got the most exciting news of our lives. After receiving fertility treatments, we found out we were pregnant! Unfortunately, the happiest season of our lives quickly turned into the saddest. This February, we found out we lost our baby through a miscarraige. The pain we felt after this loss was unbearable at times.
I remember waking up the morning after my surgery, eyes peeking open to see sunshine streaming in through my bedroom window. It was a different bedroom, a different city, but I knew God’s mercy and his promises were still the same. “The sun will come out, tomorrow…” echoed through my head in my Mama’s voice. I didn’t feel sunny for several months, but at the time it was enough to have a reminder that eventually, down the road, it would get better.
While this wasn’t a praise song, my Mama sang it because it shared the teaching, the perspective that we gain from scripture. It reminds me of Psalm 30:5:
“For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime! Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.”
Weeping is important. Scripture talks a lot about mourning and weeping. Jesus wept (John 11:35). When weeping is involved, what we see in Scripture is that for followers of God, there is always a point that the season of mourning draws to a close. There was a point in sorting through my grief that followed our miscarriage where I felt the Lord gently tap me on the shoulder and whisper to my spirit, “Nicolet, it’s time to get up.” It was as if he was telling me that yes, my mourning and my grief was okay. Yes, I would still struggle, but it was time to pick my face up off the floor. It was time to get up. It was time to dry my tears and face my fears, because the Lord had work for me to do. I felt him gently lift up my spirit, as if someone was physically helping me up off the floor. This does not mean that it was easy after this and it doesn’t mean that the pain went away. (People are giving me funny looks right now in the coffee shop where I am writing because of the tears streaming down my face.) Weeping may last for a season, but Joy comes fresh in the morning.
In the months following our loss, I confessed to my counselor that I was struggling with seeing the image of our baby lifeless on the ultrasound, and she gave me the best advice. She said, “Nicolet, every time that image comes into your head, I want you to capture it and replace it with a different one. The image you are seeing is false. I want you to replace it with the image of Jesus holding your baby because that is the image that is true.” How powerful this practice has been for me.
Your loss, your struggle may be different than mine, but our truth is the same. If nothing else good where to ever happen in our lives, we can have Joy because of what Jesus did for us through his death on the cross and resurrection from the grave. Whatever image pops into your head and causes you pain, may you replace it with the image of Jesus.
Because of the work of Jesus, I can have hope. Because of this, I can get up and keep doing the work of the Lord. Because of this, you can too. The end of Psalm 30 holds a promise for us...
“You have turned FOR ME my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.”
Psalm 30: 11
He has done it FOR US, we can not turn our mourning into dancing on our own. The only hope we have is that He will do it for us through the power of the Holy Spirit. Joy is a fruit of the Spirit. Sadness is not. As believers and followers of Jesus, we are to root ourselves in the presence of God. In His presence, abiding in and acknowledging His Spirit, is what allows us to bear His fruit, even in the most impossible situations.
Our story isn't over yet. This package hasn't been wrapped up pretty and tied in a bow. It is still messy and unpredictable. I'm wrestling with health issues and have been unable to get pregnant again. But I believe that God is faithful in the midst of our mess, and when I trust Him I release the need to understand all the details. I am able to trust that His plan for my family is GOOD.
Through His Spirit, we are able to find Joy or Cheer when the story is still being written.
Next time you see a sunrise, I hope you sing in your head, “the sun will come out tomorrow!” and be reminded of the promise we have in Psalm 30:5: “Pain may last for the night, but JOY comes in the morning.”
