Day 16 | Gabriele Hickman

As an INFP, my INTJ roommate should win an award for having such a high emotional capacity with me after she battles a long day of school and work. For those of you who don’t know yet, my roommate is Malarie, and she is awesome. Here’s how a typical night goes in our apartment.

While our other two roommates sleep like responsible working adults, I come home and sit on the stool at the counter, my head in my hands. I’m probably telling myself I should drink some water and Malarie is probably cooking something amazing.

Malarie: “How was your day?”

Gabi: “alkjfoeijfa oijd flakjoie jaoiej flakjd foiej aflejk foiejf lsk j”

Those incoherent words symbolize the emotions that Malarie now has to process through or at least pretend to while she adds basil and onions to her dish.

The same question, “How was your day?” was also probably asked by another roommate, and I probably responded with “it was fine. Yours?” My other roommates have caught on that they don’t quite get the same Gabi that Malarie does, which is weird because I try to be the same human to everyone I interact with. After taking lots of inventory, I learned that it was because Malarie sees me at night.

I’ve asked myself countless times why the nighttime always makes me more sensitive and emotional, and it comforts me to know that this is absolutely a thing.

“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.”

At night we are more susceptible to attacks of the mind, and more vulnerable to our insecurities. We are often alone with more time to process through why nobody came to the Bible Study we planned, or what we did to earn the middle finger from the guy that flipped us off in traffic. We are not very well rested so our self control is compromised. We’re coming to terms with the fact that the thing we hoped would happen today (the job offer, meeting “the one,” eating a delicious cookie) didn’t. It’s dark. It’s lonely. It’s dangerous. And yet, it happens every single day.

If anything stood out to me in these psalms, it is that God is constant (Psalm 29) but he also likes seasons (Psalm 30). He has emotions that last for a moment (anger) and emotions that last for a lifetime (favor) Ps 30:5. He gives us both the morning and the night. He gives us permission to say “my day was fine” and “my day was lkjeflja lkaj ssiej lakj fefdjkj.” He lets us cry. He lets us laugh. He lets us mourn. He lets us dance. And though some nights feel longer than others, he lets the sun rise on it every time. Our God is constant change. 

“You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing.  You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy.”