It’s late. The kind of late where the house is still, but your thoughts aren’t.
Maybe you’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, heart heavy.
Maybe you’re on the couch, phone in hand, searching for anything to ease the ache.
Maybe you’re pacing the kitchen, asking questions no one seems to answer.
Why is this happening?
Where is God?
What now?
The night hours can be cruel. Wounds feel deeper. Loss feels sharper. The future feels heavier. When everyone else is asleep, your pain seems louder. And in those moments, it’s easy to feel like the dark has won.
But it hasn’t. It never has.
God does some of His most powerful work in the dark. Midnight doesn’t scare Him. In fact, some of the greatest moments of faith happened at midnight.
“And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God, and the prisoners heard them.”
—Acts 16:25
They had been beaten, locked up unjustly, bodies torn and bound in a prison cell. And still, they sang.
Not after the wounds healed.
Not after the chains fell off.
Not after the morning came.
At midnight.
They sang right in the middle of the pain.
That’s not denial. That’s faith.
That’s hope rooted so deep, no prison could crush it.
And maybe that’s what God is asking of you tonight.
Not to pretend everything is fine, but to believe that He is still good even now.
Even after the diagnosis.
Even after the funeral.
Even in the waiting.
Even when your strength is gone.
Right now, in your own midnight, you are not powerless.
You can whisper His name.
You can pray.
You can praise.
You can move, even if it’s just a quiet sway in the dark.
You can dance. Yes, even now.
“Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing, thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.”
—Psalm 30:11
This isn’t a call to fake joy. It’s a call to remember truth.
God hasn’t changed, even if your world has.
He hasn’t left, even if you feel broken.
He hasn’t failed, even when the pain is loud.
You’re still here, which means He’s still writing your story.
“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart, and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.”
—Psalm 34:18
He is close. Not watching from a distance, but walking with you through the night.
Through the diagnosis.
Through the grief.
Through the silence.
And He still brings joy in the morning. He still restores. He still redeems.
So don’t wait to feel strong before you worship.
Don’t wait for answers before you trust.
Don’t wait for the morning before you sing.
This midnight may be the moment heaven leans in and the chains begin to shake.
You are not forgotten.
You are not alone.
You are not too far gone.
You were made for this midnight. Not to be swallowed by it, but to shine in it.
So lift your head. Breathe deep. Whisper His name.
And if your heart dares,
Sing.
Dance.
Hope.
The darkness does not get the final word.
God does.
And His Word is true.
Even now.
Especially now.