Long Days and Lonely Nights
“When your day is long, And the night, the night is yours alone When you’re sure you’ve had enough Of this life, well hang on Don’t let yourself go ‘Cause everybody cries, Everybody hurts sometimes” — R.E.M.
For all the years I’ve been alive, I can’t count how many times I’ve thought to myself, I’ve had enough. I’m tired. I can’t do this anymore. Days that seem endless, followed by nights when the loneliness feels unbearable. You wait for the sun to rise, hoping daylight will bring relief — only to find yourself doing it all over again.
For me, it comes in seasons. I never know when they’ll begin, and I certainly don’t know when they’ll end.
Life is a vapor — like a morning mist that vanishes before you even realize it was there. It’s short and uncertain. There are no guarantees about tomorrow, let alone next year or ten years from now. You may wake up young and healthy, but by sundown, life can shift in an instant. Maybe that sounds morbid. Maybe you don’t want to think about those things. But pretending otherwise won’t change the truth.
James reminds us in the Bible: “You do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” — James 4:14
I have to remind myself of this — often. Some days, it’s one moment at a time. A decision to keep going. To hold on. Because life, even in its uncertainty, is a gift. A fragile, fleeting gift we’re meant to live fully in the present.
Tomorrow is an illusion we cling to, but there are no promises we’ll see it. So, live hard. Live full. Live true. Embrace the life that is here, today. Selah.