It ain't as bad as you think. It will look better in the

Colin Powell, a soldier, a statesman, and a man of steady wisdom, once spoke these words: “It ain’t as bad as you think. It will look better in the morning.” At first, they may sound simple, almost casual, as if spoken in passing. But within them lies the discipline of a general, the patience of a leader, and the eternal wisdom of one who has faced storms yet chosen not to be broken by them. Powell’s words are not a dismissal of hardship; they are a reminder that time itself is a healer, and that perspective transforms despair into endurance.

For in the heat of the moment, when troubles weigh heavy and shadows grow long, the mind is clouded. Fear magnifies itself, sorrow stretches its hand to cover the future, and every problem seems larger than it truly is. But the night, in its silence, carries a hidden gift: rest. And with rest comes renewal. Thus, Powell teaches that by waiting for the morning, we allow the heart to settle and the mind to clear. What felt unbearable in the darkness often softens in the light of a new day.

The ancients understood this truth well. In the Psalms it is written: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Darkness is always temporary; dawn is inevitable. The rhythm of the universe itself preaches Powell’s wisdom. No matter how long the night, the sun will rise. And with its rising, the spirit often finds that the burden is lighter, not because it has vanished, but because courage has returned with the light.

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln in the dark years of the Civil War. He bore the weight of a divided nation, of countless deaths, of enemies abroad and despair at home. Many nights he sank into sorrow, his eyes heavy with the grief of the nation. Yet he endured by waiting for each dawn. Each morning, though his burdens remained, he rose renewed, ready to face another day. His triumph was not in escaping the darkness, but in believing that morning always brings with it the chance for hope, for clarity, for strength.

Powell’s words also speak to discipline. A soldier knows that decisions made in haste or in fear can be costly. By waiting for the morning, by giving time its place, one chooses wisdom over impulse. What seems unbearable tonight may require nothing more than patience to reveal its true size. The mountain we see in the dark may in truth be only a hill, revealed by the rising sun. To rest is not to surrender—it is to prepare.

The lesson for us is clear: do not trust the despair of the night. When troubles strike, when fear seizes the heart, resist the temptation to think the moment defines forever. Instead, remind yourself that morning will come, and with it, a chance to see differently. Do not let panic drive your hand; let patience guide it. In the space of one night, the soul regains its balance, and often that is all it takes to endure.

Therefore, take this into your life: when overwhelmed, pause. Sleep, rest, pray, or simply wait until the dawn. Speak to yourself the words of Powell: “It will look better in the morning.” Let this be your shield against despair. And when morning comes, rise with renewed courage, ready not only to face the problem, but to see it for what it truly is.

For in the end, the wisdom of Colin Powell is eternal: no darkness lasts forever, and no burden is as great as it appears in the shadowed hours. Trust the rhythm of life, hold fast until the dawn, and remember that the morning is not just a time of day—it is the promise of hope itself.