Ryan's Ramblings

Singing at Midnight

“About midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them." (Acts 16:25, NIV)

Is there any darker moment than the "midnight hour"? The silence is suffocating, the path unclear, and hope is all but gone. It's the hour of waiting—when nothing changes, when prayers feel unanswered, and when suffering simply lingers.

Yet, in Acts 16:25, we find Paul and Silas—wounded, bound, and waiting. And what are they doing?

They're singing.

Not because their chains had fallen off. Not because morning had come. But because Christ was with them in the dark. Their joy wasn’t tied to release or relief—it was rooted in the presence of the One who never leaves. That’s the kind of joy the way of Jesus calls us to—a joy that does not deny suffering but sings through it.

I have heard that song before.

One of the greatest privileges of my life was spending four spring breaks at a children’s home in Bangalore, India. The children there had very little—simple meals, few possessions, no shoes—but their hearts overflowed with the love, joy, and peace of Jesus. Each evening, we gathered for worship, and oh how they could sing! Their voices rang out—strong, unwavering, full of faith.

Electricity there was rationed, and at some point each night, the lights would flicker and fail, plunging us into thick darkness. But the singing never faltered. If anything, it soared. There was no hesitation. Just voices rising and ringing out, cutting through the night with unshaken praise. Then, from the shadows, a child would speak: “The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?” Another voice would follow: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.” Then another, and another. Scripture wove through the dark like a golden thread, stitching faith into the night.

Years later, I can still hear their singing. It is a melody of faith that lingers in my soul.

The Christian life isn’t about avoiding the shadows. It’s about walking through them with Jesus, the Light of the world. When we trust in His presence we find the strength to rejoice—not because life is easy, but because He is near.

At midnight, Paul and Silas sang. The prisoners listened. So did the guards. And now, centuries later, we do too.

Faith in the darkness isn’t just for us—it’s a testimony to the world around us. Will we be people who sing at midnight? Will we walk the way of Jesus—joyful, fearless, and trusting that He is greater than anything we face?

Whether it's midnight or midday, no light shines brighter than Jesus. When the lights go out and the darkness falls—sing! Let the melody of your hope shine forth, because someone is always listening.