Hello my sweet friends, I'm writing this little introduction after I've just finished writing the post, and I know that it may seem wild that I'm writing about the Dayspring for a Valentine's collection, Dayspring feels like such a Christmas or Easter theme, but I hope that it strengthens your hope like it did mine today. This curation should have really been out last week (or really on January 1st), and I wanted to write something mushy and gushy about Jesus being our first love. In fact, that’s EXACTLY what I planned on calling this curation, but every time I went to put the words to paper, they never came. So I’ve put off writing this one for much longer than I should have hoping and praying to be in a better headspace to bring you all some positive and hopeful encouragement for this curation.
Now, I find myself staring at an empty page down to the wire, praying that the strength I need to muster will suddenly appear. But God has gently reminded me that even David had some Psalms written in sadness and hopelessness, and those are some of the ones I hold dearly. So I hope you feel that glimmer of hope by reading this.
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I have a hard time with holidays that mark the passing of time. Sadly, it seems that most holidays do this, and I often find my heart barreling towards another Christmas, another birthday, another Valentine’s Day alone again. Sometimes that’s hard. It’s hard when you feel like the very thing you want most and are praying for is the same thing that God is not answering.
Those are challenging feelings. And sometimes they feel tougher when it seems like the only person they’re not being answered for is you. Life is stinky that way sometimes, huh? If you want your own business, it seems like seventy-five people just started their own business. If you want a baby, it feels like every other post on Facebook is a pregnancy announcement. And here you are still waiting, praying, and crying out. Sometimes, it's so easy to get lost in these painful waiting seasons. We start to think that God doesn't see us. He doesn't hear us. Or worse, He does, and He doesn't care.
All these feelings (I’m currently feeling them with you friend) remind me of a time in the Bible. I would say a story, but this encompasses such a long time in history (twice) that story didn’t feel quite the right word. It didn’t hold the same magnitude for the weight of the wait.
The Hebrew people (Israelites before the name change) were in bondage in Egypt. They were slaves to the Egyptian ruler, Pharaoh. In order to keep this surplus of people under his control, he made them do the backbreaking work of building his kingdom. They built big palaces and structures and maybe even pyramids to show the might and power of the king of Egypt. And each day, they would wake up in their dismal circumstances and pray for God to rescue them from this bondage, out of this slavery. Out of this dark place they found themselves in.
And every day they would wake up still in Egypt. Still in bondage. Still a slave to the Pharoah. Expected to perform yet another day of work for this man who ruled the land they were currently in. And this continued for hundreds of years. And all the while, God remained silent.
Until one day, God had heard their cries long enough, and a baby was born. I think that most of us know the rest of this story, but if you don't, Moses' story can be found in the book of Exodus, and after still yet another eighty years, the Hebrews walked out of Egypt and into the freedom they'd been praying for. But think of all that time they spent waiting, hoping God could hear them. That God could see their pain. That this would be the day He would answer the prayers of His people.
I wonder how many of them had reached the point that they could not even hope for salvation to come. I wonder how many of them accepted that they would die in this dark place. I wonder how many of them thought that their God no longer cared.
This happened again a bit later in the Hebrews story (now called the Israelites). They were walking in darkness, in agony, in their sin, crying out for rescue from the Messiah that God had promised them. Then, just as He had in their story before, God goes silent for another four hundred years. And the Israelites are left wondering if their God even cared. Would they ever see the Messiah? For some, that glimmer of hope was all they could hold on to.
And one night, in a little stable in Bethlehem, a baby was born. (sounds familiar, huh?) And they called His name Jesus, and this tiny baby would go on to flip the world upside down. His uncle Zachariah prophesied before His birth, “Through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” (Luke 1:78-79)
Jesus is the dayspring.
The sunrise.
The new dawn.
The salvation that was promised.
The redemption that was longed for.
And He came to bring His people out of the darkness and into His marvelous light. Just as was prophesied, even hundreds of years before His birth.
So I guess what I’m trying to tell you today, sweet friend, is that as dark as your situation may seem. As long as you’ve prayed with seemingly no response. As long as your hope has been flickering like a flame battling the wind. As long as God has seemed silent in your situation, He has always been there. He has heard your cries; He sees your broken heart. He knows your desires. And when the time is just right, He will stand true to His name in your situation. The dayspring has come, and He is here to bring light into your darkness. Hold on, sweetest friend. You are ALMOST there. Stay hopeful and allow almost to strengthen the reason you are waiting. Continue believing that the sun will rise in your situation.
Keep on believing.
He sees you.
He hears you.
He loves you.
He is working.
xoxo,
Em
