Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalm 30:5

To me, there are no more comforting and hopeful words than those. That’s my verse.  A lot of people have a verse that just feels all their own, and that one has helped me up and held me up, has rocked me to sleep, and has carried me to morning many, many nights.  Of course, it isn’t solely my verse, it may very well be yours, too.  I think it brings solace to people in many stages and situations in life.

There is a certain amount of daily trauma that goes along with figuring the ins and outs of life for a child that is exceptional in one way or another.  At least, there is in our situation.

There is the  trauma I have felt as a mother waiting through an entire school day, just praying my child doesn’t wander from campus.  There's the trauma I’ve felt as a mother watching my son live life with a chronic illness and almost daily physical discomfort.  There’s the trauma I’ve felt as a mother watching many aspects of childhood just pass us right on by. I tend not to focus on the parts of life that are painful.  However, the mental and emotional toll is great.  For me, the worry is the hardest part to shake.  

I just want to do this right.  I want my children to live the very best life they can.  I think that’s what every parent desires.  So, those calls from school, the staring eyes at the grocery store when behaviors completely out of my childs control creep in, the setbacks at home--though they are mixed in with wonderful moments of thriving and progress and utter happiness, they are the ones that bring tears in the calm and stillness of night.  Those moments are the ones that flood my mind as I’m trying to sleep.  They seem to land on my heart and the weight can feel unbearable.  They lead me to reach for my phone and begin the reading and researching that I’ve spent countless nights engulfed in.  They lead me to strategize and come up with plans upon plans to help ease my child's pain and struggle through the tough spots.  

Then I think of my verse.  Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

Just recalling the words, stops me.  In the act of remembering that verse, I am suddenly brought back to knowing that I am not alone in this, and I don’t have to carry this on my heart alone. The heaviness lifts.  My children are not alone, either.  The hope and reassurance that my child has a beautiful and heaven-sent path ahead floods in.  It’s a cue to stop the wheels of worry and turn to my faith and hope instead.  

I’ve been down this road a night or two, and yes, joy always comes in the morning.  Nothing in the bright sunlight of a new day is ever as dire as it seems in the darkness of the night before.  The hope of a new day is real.  Even though our circumstance is still just as it was, there’s a clarity of mind and a different perspective that comes as we wake. 

When the night feels hopeless, it is a gift to me to be able to rest in the hope of the joy that is surely to come.

Written by BreAnn Tassone

BreAnn is a wife and mother to two beloved children.  Her 8 year old son is twice exceptional and has been diagnosed with PANS/PANDAS, and her 3 year old daughter is his most incredible advocate.  They both bring joy to this world in their own individual ways. BreAnn lives with her family in central Virginia.  She is a former Special Education teacher and serves as a volunteer at her church within the special needs ministry.  She is a homeschooler and coordinates groups and events within her community to support the childhood experience of her neighbors and friends. It is her conviction that all children benefit when all children are included, accepted and can live this life learning from and supporting each other.

"Aching Joy: Following God through the Land of Unanswered Prayer" in Review

“Fine. That’s what we call the ground where we think we ought to be standing. The ground of Fine. We imagine ourselves there, and we keep walking. Eyes up. Smile on. Don’t look down. Don’t admit your open wounds, your hanging doubts, your naked needs.”

– Jason Hague, Aching Joy

I met Jason at a conference he, his wife, Jonathan and I were all speaking at. We immediately connected, and they instantly felt like long lost friends. When his book came out, I was privileged and excited to read it, even with the stacks of books I have waiting for me to dig into, it went to the top of the pile. His book is just like he is – real and relational.  

One of the reasons Jonathan and I connected with Jason so instantly was the fact that he is real. There’s no sugar-coated fake smile. There’s no hiding the hard, pretending it doesn’t exist or impact life. But there’s also joy and laughter in the connecting. Aching Joy is a true reflection of the author and it is a rare treasure.

Aching Joy reads like beautifully written prose poetry but has all the realness and rawness of opening a journal and reading the innermost struggles and questions of the spiritual and emotional journey of person going through the land of unanswered prayers in heartbreaking circumstances. And when those circumstances match your journey and circumstances, a child with special needs, whew. It goes straight to the heart. 

Jason covers it all: the struggles, the questions, the doubts, the fear, the disillusionment, the wrestling with God, the learning new things about God, new insights, and new perspectives.

Aching Joy opens a window and lets the reader peer into the transformation as it takes place in one man’s soul as he traverses the land of unanswered prayer. Yet, that man’s journey is not a rare or an entirely unique one, as I find it matches my own and many other parents walking this path.

Jason beautifully lays out the struggles and tug of war in all its messiness that happens in a person’s heart and head as they seek to understand the “Why?” and the “Where are you, God?” with the truth they know in the Bible and the reality of their life circumstance.

The lovely thing about Aching Joy is that while Jason invites you to journey with him, it is not the aimless wanderings and ponderings like would be found in a journal.  He shares the Biblical truths he discovered and the God he has come to know in a new way in the process of the journey that has led to hope, healing, and joy. Although, it is definitely still an aching joy and will remain so, as it will for all of us, until the day of the final and complete redemption of all things.

“The road ahead is dangerous but not barren. There is sustenance here, because Christ himself is here, and he goes before us. He walked this path already, this Man of Sorrows, and endured all that we must endure and more…He does not hover above us on the winds of false expectations. Rather, he stands next to us with his own humble scars, beckoning us forward.”

– Jason Hague, Aching Joy

Written by Sarah McGuire, Co-Founder of Hope Anew