Waiting for the Dawn

“Through a small window, a faint gleam appeared.
One by one the stars went out . . . ‘Oh beautiful day, it is here at last'” (35).  

Night had fallen on the melancholiest of days, made even worse with the administration of medicine and molasses. Then a thin but pleasant voice broke through the malaise and offered hope. The challenge: Wilbur had to wait until morning.³⁶ 

The disciples, too, had waited for dawn. They endured the crucifixion of Jesus; despondent, they moved through Easter Saturday, not believing that Jesus would live again. “My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning” (Ps. 130:6). 

Then the day of resurrection dawned. 

For what are you waiting? The dawn of justice? For the Lord to act so you’re not tempted to take revenge? Waiting for the dawn of resurrection after a loved one passes away? Waiting for the dawn of redemption for a beloved son or daughter caught in chains of savagely hurtful choices? Waiting for God to take away the awful trial before you? 

While we wait: the Ferris wheel is turning ever so slowly, and we know the resurrection has already held its victorious day, with time turning toward Christ’s return. The dawn of its morning has already been. We see Mary responding to the One who came from death to life calling her name—calling my name and yours. We see Peter and John racing to the empty grave and marveling at the folded linen cloths. 

We live because He lives, and all our waiting is caught in His time of now and forever, where our tears are held and our souls connect with eternity, where all of our hearts’ longings will be satisfied. But for now, the Ferris wheel carrying us through life turns and sways, and we wait for the dawn, the Morning Star. 

“Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (Ps. 30:5).