The beauty of a sunrise just melts my heart! The colors that can never really be recreated by man. When I was still at work, the one thing that was really worth getting up in the morning was the scene that greeted me in the sky as I drove eastward. Below are my thoughts on those mornings:
Mornings crossing the lake bring a vision to mind. The sun rising slowly. It is as slow as I am getting up most days, sending a liquid golden path across the lake. Inviting me to leave the drab, gray, concrete road and take up the path of gold; to move from the real and “concrete” to the imagined and dreamed.
Some days the path of gold shimmers quietly; so still that one could almost skate across it. On others, the path is undulating and one must step carefully to avoid the unseen pitfalls. And on still others, there are marked hills and valleys in the golden path that are so sharp and jagged that they scream “caution!” at you.
It makes me think that life is like that reflection on the lake. We never know what path our lives will take each day as we rise with that sun. Each day we rise is different and there are easy ones: ones that are smooth as glass, some that are bumpy and others that are downright treacherous. On those days, we fall asleep gratefully, knowing that- a particular danger is past, if only for the moments we sleep.
Each morning going to work, I cross the lake with my car pointed in an easterly direction. And on each morning, I am given a gift so beautiful and intangible that it can only be a gift wrought by the hand of God. The sunrises are always spectacular and singular in their color, form and beauty. I look at them and know that they were painted by the unseen hand, Who, in Love, has given me this gift to start my day. Even if nothing else goes well during the day, I know I am loved by the picture painted for me in the sky each day.
On those days that some call dark and dreary, I rejoice in the deep hues of blue, grey and purple with a hint of green. We all need those dark colors in our lives – they make the pastel pinks, lavenders, oranges, yellows and turquoises that much more spectacular. And, truth be told, if all we had was the bright and beautiful we would become immune to their beauty after a while and cease to appreciate them.
The most special moment is that second, or few seconds, when God stays his hand and holds the sun just below the horizon so that all I see is the reflected glow streaming over the morning sky. The beauty and anticipation in that scene reveal so much to me of His preparation for me: I am on this side waiting to get there and He is here with me giving me a glimpse of what it will be like when I get there. I am hoping that every day in Paradise will begin as the days here do. Perhaps, they will start with even more breathtaking colors. But I can’t help feeling that in this one moment every morning I am being allowed a glimpse of perfection in this imperfect world. A masterpiece from the hand of God.
It’s like I can see the painting as it is being created in the sky; the swirl of colors and layers of reflection in the movements of the clouds. His finger stirring up the paint pots and placing the colors in the exact spots he wants them so that they produce such an incredible sight. All I see is joy all over the heavens.
I used to feel sad I lived on the western shore of the lake and wanted a house on the eastern shore instead so that I could sit and watch the sun as it slowly went to sleep each night. Now, I find that I look forward to what I will see each morning and I am glad that I’m on this western shore and that He knows the mornings are tough and that he has provided the one thing that He knows will pull me through and put me in a grateful frame of mind to prepare me for the day. Thank you, Lord.
(I am retired now and living on the eastern shore and am beginning to appreciate the sunsets I see as I look out the back; where I can just barely see the lake- more on that when I’ve digested a few more of those sunsets.)