Praise

I fall short in giving God the glory. I fail to praise him, day in and day out, especially in my struggles and pain. On the cloudy days, I don't look to the heavens--instead I hang my head and fear that God has forgotten me.

I woke up this morning at 4:38am. I sat up and rubbed my eyes for a moment before I noticed something. I peered out my window. It was still dark enough outside to be night, but light enough to be morning as well. It felt comforting to some degree, and unexplainably calming to be there, watching as night turned to day--seeing the light gradually penetrating the darkness all around me.

But what really caught my attention was what I heard.
It sounded as if every bird on every branch of every tree in my neighborhood was singing his heart out, and all in perfect harmony. They sounded so joyful and full of hope.

And now, of course, the culmination of all my thoughts.
If a lark can sing praises to my Father in the darkness when light is only peeking through, and glorify his maker with all the song he has in his lungs, why do I stand still and silent when a storm comes my way? And instead of praising him for the light that pierces the darkness, I close my eyes tightly and refuse to hold on to hope, in fear of being let down.

God, give me the faith of that lark--to believe without any doubt that God will shine through my dark times, and provide what I need, whether it be night or morning. And God, oh God, help me to sing.