For many people, that feels about right. December can be hard. The days are short. The nights stretch on. We miss people who are no longer at the table. We worry about money, about health, about what comes next. Even in a city as generous and musical as Memphis, winter can feel lonely.
This year, the longest night comes during Hanukkah, the festival of lights, a holiday that doesn't deny the darkness but meets it one small flame at a time. A reminder that light doesn't have to be overwhelming to be real. And the longest night carries a quiet truth we often forget. From this point on, the light begins to return. Not all at once, not dramatically, just a minute at a time. Hope often comes like that. Not as a sudden miracle, but as a small, steady change, a kind word, a neighbor who shows up, a candle lit in a dark room. So if the season feels heavy, remember this, the longest night is not the end of the story, it is a turning point.
This is Dr. Scott Morris for Church Health.
