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Erickson: Joy cometh in the morning

By Erick Erickson - | May 21, 2024

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Erick Erickson

Last Friday, 3,943 miles south of the North Pole, here in Macon, Georgia, the Northern Lights were visible with the naked eye. They twirled and danced across the sky. They left pink and purple hues and colored the moon. I drove my family out into farm country away from city lights and we beheld the spectacle. The next day, I posted on Substack a piece titled “What a Time to Be Alive” with pictures.

In that 398-word post, I noted how so much of the world had a shared, global experience. People from Australia to Alaska were posting pictures on social media. People who had never seen the Northern Lights were in awe of God’s creation. Many people captured the moment with amazingly capable cameras pulled from their pockets and transmitted their pictures to friends globally. Since then, my mind has returned again and again to a commenter on that post.

He wrote, “Too bad that about a million children murdered in the womb each year will never get to see those Northern Lights. So, although I thank God every day for the life He’s given me, as a down payment on the greatest gift of all, of Salvation, I do not see this as wonderful “time” to be alive. It’s a heartbreaking time to be alive, and this is a heartbreaking country.” When I replied, “Way to bring everybody down,” he replied in part, “These decisions of mankind are often, frankly, putrid, and we live with them and mourn of them. There were almost certainly Northern Lights in 65 AD when Nero was slaughtering Christians in the Coliseum, but I don’t think Paul, Peter and John would have written of how great it was to be alive.”

Yesterday, my daughter graduated high school. Just over seven years ago, doctors gave her mother two years to live. When we enrolled our kids in their school, my wife set up a meeting with the principal and headmaster to get them to promise they’d look after our kids and their education because my wife would be dead before either of our children graduated. It was a fate my wife knew well, as her mother died when my wife was young. Two generations of women in the family would walk across a graduation stage with an emptiness none could fill.

But, because of this time we live in, my wife has defied the odds and saw our daughter walk across the stage, get her diploma and turn her tassel. My wife’s father and mother (her step-mom adopted her after we got married) were there with us. Yes, it is truly an amazing time to be alive.

Early Christians faced relentless persecution and, even in that persecution, converted the Roman Empire because of their joy. Yes, Paul, Peter and John did think it was a great time to be alive because they lived to walk with Immanuel and they got to share His gospel.

Despair because of the world and its fallenness is a choice. It is a choice people on the secular left have made because they think there is no eternity and this world is dying. It is a choice people on the religious right have made because they know there is sin, but they forget the Spirit still moves. “Sing unto the LORD, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Psalm 30:4-5 (KJV).

A lot of people have chosen to be victims, to be angry or to despair at the world around them. It is a choice to be angry all the time. I see it among those who are always online and obsessed with the news, which feeds on malcontent.

A week ago, “I looked, and I saw a windstorm coming out of the north — an immense cloud with flashing lightning and surrounded by brilliant light.” Ezekiel 1:4 (NIV). Last night, my wife watched our daughter graduate high school. Yes, it is an amazing time to be alive. Despair at a fallen world is a choice. Instead, choose joy, which cometh in the morning.

To find out more about Erick Erickson and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

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