When I was a teenager, I experienced my first struggles with insomnia. I would lie in bed for hours without being able to drift off to sleep. As the clock ticked on, I became anxious; would I get any rest? Something about the deep hours of the night is unsettling: black darkness all around, stiff silence, the feeling life itself has become frozen. In those moments, it is easy to wonder: Will the morning ever come?
Mornings feel precious, don’t they? We might say we aren’t a “morning person,” but we still eagerly look out the window when the warm light starts streaming in. When faced with a big decision, we often say, “I’ll sleep on it,” or “I’ll think about this in the morning.” Why do we talk and act as if the arrival of a new sunrise is somehow powerful? As if it can somehow purify or help us?
The Bible says that when God created the whole world, the very first thing he said was, “Let there be light” (Genesis 1:3). Into the darkness, God spoke the very first morning. The world’s first morning was perfect. Its light was pure and unpolluted. It announced a day without sorrow, without death, without regret. In the beginning, absolutely everything was “very good” (Genesis 1:31).
Maybe that’s one reason that we feel the way we do about mornings. The first light of a new day almost promises to wash away the anxieties, disappointments, and regrets of the past. A night of sleepless suffering melts before the sunbeams. Dawn seems to offer a second chance as the day begins again. Everything seems very good.
And yet, this feeling of new hope doesn’t last forever, does it? With a new day comes not just a new beginning, but the same old fears and failures from yesterday. Have you ever started a day determined to make it better than yesterday, only to feel helpless just hours later as the habits you vowed to kick come back or the promises you wanted to keep break like glass? The day that started very good goes back to being the same struggle you remember.
The Bible has an explanation for that too. Even though the world and human beings were very good when God created them, something happened. The Creator God gave his human creations a magnificent responsibility: to love and obey him in a perfect paradise and to extend God’s reign over all the universe as his prized image bearers. But the humans he created chose something different. They rejected his rules and their responsibility. They tried to find joy and wisdom apart from God. When they did this, something entered the universe that changed it forever:
Sin.
Sin’s posture is a back turned on God. Sin is when we don’t follow what God says, going our own way instead.
Sin is why our nights seem to last so long. Sin is why the regrets won’t stop pounding in our hearts. Sin is why people wound us so deeply we can’t make ourselves forget. Sin is why even the bright, pure mornings bring news from the night before of violence, addiction, betrayal, and despair.
Jesus knew about the power of night. He understood that there is something in the human heart that loves darkness rather than the light (John 3:19). As warm as the light might feel, as much as we might want it to break on us, we also fear the light. We fear being exposed by it. We fear that others will see us clearly for the first time.
Jesus called himself “the light of the world” (John 8:12). He said that he had come from God to give light to the human race, which was lost in the darkness of sin. Jesus showed who God is. How? Because Jesus is God. He is God the Son, the very image of the God who dwells in “unapproachable light” (1 Timothy 6:16).
What happened to Jesus? The light he gave exposed many people as sinners. Instead of believing in him, they killed him. They didn’t like the things Jesus said about himself, and so they delivered him over to the Romans to be crucified. The Bible says that as Jesus was on the cross, the area became unnaturally darkened. The world entered its own night of sleepless angst, as the dark deepened and the dawn felt far away.
But the morning came.
Jesus came back to life. He was resurrected. In the early morning hours of the Sunday after his death, the light of the world shined brilliantly again. And Jesus’s followers knew: There would be no end to this morning. The night of sin and shame had been broken, not just temporarily, but forever.
Why? Because Jesus did not die an ordinary death. He died in the place of sinners like you and me. His death wasn’t an accident. It was God’s plan to put my sin and your sin on Jesus, so that the penalty for sin would be paid completely. When Jesus came back to life, the power of sin was broken. The darkness fell on Jesus, so that dawn would rise on us.
Do you need morning? Do you need the darkness of sin to be dispelled by the light? Are you worried that the light you so desperately need will simply reveal the depths of your brokenness? I have good news: Jesus, the light of the world, has come for you. He knows everything about you. And he wants you to come to him, so that he can shine on you. Jesus shines light on us, not so that we will be forever ashamed, but so that we can watch as he takes our sin and casts it away forever.
Dawn has come. The sun—the Son—has risen. Because of this, God’s mercies are new every
morning (see Lamentations 3:23). Put your faith in Jesus. Confess your sin and trust him to save you. Let the light of the world shine on you. Start by praying something like this:
Heavenly Father, I believe that Jesus Christ is your Son, and that he died on the cross to save me from my sin. I believe that he rose again to life, and that he invites me to live forever with him in heaven as part of your family. Because of what Jesus has done, I ask you to forgive me of my sin and give me eternal life. Please guide me to a Bible-believing church where I can grow as a Christian with others who love Jesus. Amen.