Those words rise in me every morning at four o’clock. I never set an alarm, yet this hour continues to call me awake. What once felt like a disturbance has become something sacred. This is the moment when the world is silent and the weight of life presses heavily on my heart. It is the moment when God meets me in the stillness.
When I first open my eyes, the darkness feels thick with the concerns of the world. I feel the strain of troubled families, the confusion shaping our culture, the fear that fills the news, and the quiet burdens that people carry without speaking. The night holds all of it. The silence seems to echo with the brokenness of a world that has forgotten truth and lost its way. It is heavy, and at times it feels overwhelming.
Yet when I turn my thoughts toward God, the atmosphere begins to shift. His presence does not burst in loudly. It enters gently, like a soft and steady light touching the edges of a dark room. The heaviness loosens. The shadows pull back. The darkness that once felt familiar begins to lose its power, not because I am strong, but because He is with me. His nearness changes everything.
In that quiet hour, it feels as though I am walking through the private corridors of my own soul. Every thought is clearer. Every fear is exposed. Every hidden concern rises to the surface. Yet nothing in me feels alone. God speaks in the silence, not with audible sound, but with a certainty that settles deep inside. He reminds me that He remains steady when the world shakes. He reminds me that His truth stands when everything else shifts. He reminds me that His light is stronger than any darkness.
These minutes before dawn become a place of release. I lay down the burdens I have carried. I offer Him the things I cannot fix. I allow Him to speak clarity where the world has spoken confusion. It is in this stillness that new thoughts begin to form—thoughts shaped by His presence rather than my worry. They come gently, but they come with weight and purpose. They are reminders that God is here, God is listening, and God is speaking.
By the time the hour passes, the darkness no longer feels threatening. The heaviness no longer feels crushing. The world outside has not changed, but something inside me has. Light fills the places where fear once lived. Peace settles where pressure once pressed. The silence becomes holy rather than hollow.
It is in these four o’clock moments—when the world is heavy, the night is deep, and the Lord draws near—that “Just Some Thoughts” are born.