Chasing Daylight

I don't like nighttime.

I know that this is not the most profound sentiment, but it is very honest.  I don't like the night.  I never have. That isn't to say that I don't find wonder in the stars or that I am in a constant state of panic when the sun goes down.  But dusk always fills me with a little sadness, just as watching a dawning sky fills me with peace.

I don't know that we were meant to lose this much sleep.  Before gaslight and electricity, I would imagine nighttime activities were kept to a minimum.  We would miss most of the evening until we arose with the sun.  But now we wake before the sun rises and we stay awake far after it has set.  

I don't know that this is a universal feeling.  I know many who consider themselves night people.  The nights can mean freedom from the day's toil and it can mean freedom to congregate and recreate.  But I think of the words from the play Henry V:

    I am a king that find thee, and I know 
    'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball, 
    The sword, the mace, the crown imperial, 
    The intertissued robe of gold and pearl, 
    The farced title running 'fore the king, 
    The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp 
    That beats upon the high shore of this world, 
    No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony, 
    Not all these, laid in bed majestical, 
    Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, 
    Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind 
    Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread; 
    Never sees horrid night, the child of hell, 
    But, like a lackey, from the rise to set 
    Sweats in the eye of Phoebus and all night 
    Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn, 
    Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse, 
    And follows so the ever-running year, 
    With profitable labour, to his grave: 
    And, but for ceremony, such a wretch, 
    Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep, 
    Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king. 

What Henry is talking about is how the worries of the crown weigh so heavily on the person that they cannot sleep.  And that a good night's sleep is better than all the riches of the world.  But I love the way he calls it "horrid night."  When time stretches from sleeplessness, it feels like a prolonged pain.  Too often I associate long nights with sickness, restlessness, or worry.  There were nights when my stomach was tied up in so many agonized knots that I did not think I would ever find relief.

I don't know that we were meant to lose this much sleep.  Before gaslight and electricity, I would imagine nighttime activities were kept to a minimum.  We would miss most of the evening until we arose with the sun.  But now we wake before the sun rises and we stay awake far after it has set.  

But it is more than that.  I find I can sleep very soundly during the day, but night carries with it more worries.  I don't have night terrors or the like, but there is uneasiness when the darkness of night covers us.  During the day, if I shut all the curtains, I am comforted in knowing that beyond is the light of the sun, even if I cannot see. 

In darkness is uncertainty and emptiness.  Darkness perfectly represents the void.  Many of the saints go through a period of time called "The Dark Night of the Soul."  It is a phase of their spiritual development when God removes all consolation and joy from them.  They must now set their wills on doing what is good and holy not because it feels good, but simply because it is good and holy.  I am not nearly as far advanced in my spiritual life to have experienced this advanced stage.  And yet there are nights that I reach out to God and feel only emptiness.  I look for Him, and find only darkness.  

And the night lasts so long.

But I have to remember that darkness is not a thing in itself.  It is only the absence of light.  But just because the light isn't present to me, it does not mean that it isn't there.  The sun still shines. I am only covered in the shadow of this world.  

 I think of Samwise Gamgee, when he was lost in the darkness of Mordor, where the sky was darkened by the smoke and ash from Mount Doom:

“There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tower high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.” 

I have to remember that the darkness is not the reality.  It only serves to remind me that I am missing out on the light.  All darkness retreats from the light, even the smallest glimmer.  "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

And I have to remind myself that the nights are not actually any longer.  It only feels that way because of the lack of peace in my soul.  But if the peace of God comes upon me, the night holds no anxieties and I can rest in deep, refreshing sleep.

And the sun will rise.  And it will set.  And it will rise again.

But not forever.

In the end, this world will pass away.  And in the world to come, the thing I have been longing for will be there.

"They will look upon his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.  Night will be no more, nor will they need light from lamp or sun, for the Lord God shall give them light, and they shall reign forever and ever."  Revelation 22:4-5