Some days are darker than others. Sometimes the clouds roll in before dawn even has a chance to rise. These are the days that require more fight, more effort to plow ahead than others. Days that you don’t feel like awaking the dawn with harp and lyre, like David sings of in the Psalms. Days where you don’t feel like waking at all. Just let me lie here, stay in this bed a little longer and lament what I already anticipate ahead.

But days like these I know I must wrestle harder, beat the ground if I must, and resist my opponents efforts to choke the life I fight for.  And even if I end up on my back struggling to turn upright the majority of the time, I know I must never give up . Never let myself become defeated by defaulting to despair.

It is a strenuous struggle, an arduous uphill climb, but one I must make. I have no other choice than to climb and carry on, despite the heavy load I bear, as standing still only gets me that much closer to nightfall and utter darkness once again. I must continue on toward the light, because even on the darkest of nights the stars still shine. And if I cannot reach them, I will climb higher, attempting to surpass even the clouds, to reach the peaks of these hopeful heights, to reach the eminence where His light floods down from above, and linger there until hope rises and I do it all over again.