In the 17th century, the poet John Milton made a startling revelation in his poem, Comus: “Was I deceiv’d, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?” 

And so the expression “silver lining” came into the lexicon. 

I grew up hearing the modern-day proverb, “Look for the silver lining” after a life disappointment. Often the instruction seems trite and dismissive. But there is truth that even in the darkest situations, there is some sliver of light. Look for it. 

This is proclaimed in the first chapter of the Gospel of John: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness shall never overcome it. Even on our darkest day, God will offer a bit of light. God is always working things together for good. It could be a new insight, a revelation of kindness, the gift of a new friend, or unexpected door opening. A silver lining is something attached to love and the presence of a higher power when you most need it. 

Recently, I was lamenting with my neighbor about the heart-breaking loss of trees in our neighborhood from winter storm “Fern.” “Hello, sun gardens,” she exclaimed.  When large trees fall and are removed, the canopy opens. New life rushes in. Where before the ground had lived in deep shade, the surprise of light invites unexpected greenery, sun-loving wildflowers, berry bushes, and young trees to grow. Nature plants its own new garden. A gift is hidden in the loss. 

In the back of an ambulance (my first experience and I hope it is my last) on the way to the hospital after a terrible fall, dislocating and breaking my shoulder, delirious and terribly frightened by the pain, I experienced a sliver of moonlight in my darkness. The medic/angel laid his large hands gently on me and prayed the most beautiful prayer. This sterling lining was a moment of peace amidst sirens, potholes, and pain. I just knew God was with me. 

God is always helping us along the broken road. Train your eyes to look for glimmers of light to shine through your darkness. 

Sitting in a hospital waiting room with my friend, her two daughters, and sister and brother in law after her husband’s serious heart surgery, we all suspected that he was in his last hours. It was devastating. But I remember the group circling our chairs, laughing, hugging, sharing stories while enjoying chamomile citrus tea and dark chocolate almonds. In that hard moment, I made a connection with my friend’s daughter. I believe she felt the presence of God that day like maybe she had not before. A lasting blessing that we will not forget.

Looking for “silver linings” is not a denial of suffering, but a determination to see where, how, and through whom God loves and redeems through it.

If, like me, you feel the weight of your present circumstances (taking care of children and parents, navigating a challenging relationship, enduring a health crisis, aging, grieving a loss, or just plain disheartened by the world), I commend myself and you to reach for glints of hope wherever you find them.

Hello, sun gardens!