Hope isn't always pretty. Sometimes, it’s a desperate act of defiance written on a cold wall by someone who isn't even sure they’ll see tomorrow. You've probably seen the quote on a Pinterest board or a minimalist coffee mug: I believe in sun even when it is not shining. It sounds like a lovely bit of poetic optimism, right? Like something a lifestyle coach would say to help you get through a rainy Tuesday.
The reality is much heavier.
This isn't just a "good vibes only" mantra. These words were allegedly found etched into a wall in Cologne, Germany, by someone hiding from the Nazis during World War II. When you understand that context, the phrase shifts from a Hallmark sentiment to a visceral scream of survival. It’s about the radical choice to maintain internal light when the external world is literally trying to extinguish you.
Where did the Cologne inscription actually come from?
History is a bit messy here. Most accounts link the phrase to a cellar in Cologne where Jews were hiding from the Gestapo. There’s a specific version of the full text that usually includes three parts: a belief in the sun, a belief in love even when not feeling it, and a belief in God even when He is silent.
It’s haunting.
Some researchers point to the "Hymn to the Sun" or similar motifs in Jewish liturgy, but the specific phrasing—I believe in sun even when it is not shining—became a global symbol of resilience after the war. It wasn't written by a professional poet with a fountain pen. It was likely scratched into stone or plaster by a person facing the absolute brink of human cruelty.
Why does this matter? Because we live in a culture that often confuses "positivity" with "denial." But this inscription isn't denying the darkness. It’s acknowledging that the sun is missing. It’s a statement of fact: "It is not shining." Yet, the belief remains. That distinction is the difference between shallow optimism and deep, soul-level grit.
👉 See also: The Gospel of Matthew: What Most People Get Wrong About the First Book of the New Testament
The psychology of believing in what you can't see
Honestly, our brains aren't naturally wired for this kind of abstraction when we’re under fire. When you're in a "dark" period—whether that’s a clinical depression, a grief cycle, or a literal war—your amygdala is screaming that the current state is the only state.
Psychologists often talk about "permanent versus temporary" thinking. People who survive extreme trauma often share a trait: they can hold the idea of a future reality while surviving a present nightmare. This is exactly what I believe in sun even when it is not shining encapsulates. It’s a cognitive anchor.
Viktor Frankl, the psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor who wrote Man’s Search for Meaning, talked extensively about this. He noticed that the prisoners who had the best chance of survival weren't necessarily the physically strongest. They were the ones who could orient themselves toward a meaning or a future "sun." They maintained an internal world that the external world couldn't touch.
Is it just about religion?
Not necessarily. While the original inscription mentions God, the "sun" part is what resonates with secular audiences too. It represents the objective truth of goodness. Even if the earth rotates and puts you in the shadow, or if clouds block the view, the sun hasn't ceased to exist.
It’s a physics-based metaphor for faith.
How this quote became a musical and cultural touchstone
If the words sound familiar but you’ve never been to a museum in Germany, you might have heard them in a choir room. The composer Mark A. Miller famously set these words to music in a piece titled "Believe." It’s become a staple for high school and professional choirs globally.
✨ Don't miss: God Willing and the Creek Don't Rise: The True Story Behind the Phrase Most People Get Wrong
There is something about the human voice singing those specific lines that hits differently.
Music has a way of stripping away the "cheesiness" of inspirational quotes. When a hundred voices swell on the word "shining," you feel the weight of the person in that cellar. You feel the cold of the wall.
- The text is often used in Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoah) services.
- It appeared in the 1945 book The Scrolls of Auschwitz, though versions vary.
- It has been translated into dozens of languages, yet the "sun" metaphor remains the most potent.
The danger of "Toxic Positivity" vs. Radical Hope
We need to address the elephant in the room. In 2026, we’re hyper-aware of "toxic positivity." That’s the annoying habit people have of telling you to "just look on the bright side" when your life is falling apart.
Is I believe in sun even when it is not shining toxic?
No. Because it doesn't demand that you feel happy. It doesn't ask you to pretend the sun is shining. It’s a cold, hard choice of the will. It’s saying: "Everything I see right now suggests the world is dark, but I am choosing to rely on a truth I previously knew to be certain."
That’s radical hope.
🔗 Read more: Kiko Japanese Restaurant Plantation: Why This Local Spot Still Wins the Sushi Game
Toxic positivity is a mask. Radical hope is a shield. One hides the pain; the other helps you endure it. When you’re in the middle of a "not shining" season, you don't need someone to tell you the weather is great. You need the reminder that the weather is temporary.
Practical ways to apply this when things actually suck
If you're currently in a basement—metaphorical or otherwise—how do you actually live out the idea that I believe in sun even when it is not shining? It’s not about writing it on your mirror in lipstick and smiling.
First, acknowledge the darkness. If you pretend it’s light out, you’ll trip over the furniture. The person who wrote those words knew exactly how dark it was. They were likely hungry, terrified, and alone. Validation of your current struggle is the first step toward surviving it.
Second, look for "light echoes." If the sun isn't out, look for the moon—which is just a reflection of the sun anyway. In your life, this means looking for small, objective proofs that goodness still exists. A friend who checks in. A decent cup of coffee. The fact that you’re still breathing. These are the "reflections" of the sun.
Third, use the "even when" framework.
- I believe in recovery even when I feel hopeless.
- I believe in connection even when I feel lonely.
- I believe in my worth even when I’ve failed.
This structure allows you to hold two opposing truths at once. It honors your current pain while refusing to let that pain be the final word on your existence.
Actionable Insights for the Hard Days
Don't wait for a crisis to build your "belief system." Resilience is a muscle you flex when things are okay so that it’s strong enough when things aren't.
- Document your "Suns": Keep a record of things you know to be true when you’re happy. Write them down. When the darkness hits—and it will, because that’s how life works—you have a primary source document from your past self proving that the sun exists.
- Limit the "Darkness Input": If you’re already in a season where the sun isn't shining, stop doomscrolling. You don't need more evidence of the dark. You need to preserve your internal candles.
- Connect with the Source: For the person in the Cologne cellar, the "sun" was often tied to their faith or their community. Find your community. Hope is rarely a solo sport. It’s much easier to believe in the sun when you’re standing next to someone who remembers what the warmth felt like.
The beauty of the phrase I believe in sun even when it is not shining lies in its defiance. It is an act of rebellion against despair. It tells us that our perspective—the "shining" or "not shining"—is not the same thing as reality. The sun is there. It has to be. And eventually, the earth will turn back toward it.