Good morning…
I left our home yesterday to prepare for a week of work, one delightful week fully focused on bringing to life this semester’s study Waking Up Whole: Mind, Body, and Soul, which begins on January 22nd. (By the way…for those who live nearby or far away, if you would like to register for this class or the other Winter/Spring studies offered by our Women’s Ministry, please touch on this link.) A generous, generous friend and her husband offered me a week of silence and solitude at their beach home, free from distractions, to wholeheartedly listen to the Author of this study.
The day before leaving, I cooked up some yummy turkey/brown rice/vegetable soup and dropped it off at various peoples’ homes. Some deliveries were “Thank you” gifts for acts of greatly appreciated generosity. Others where, “I’m praying for you” gifts as people are living with the grief of loss and the shock of a difficult diagnosis. The rest I prepared for our family to eat when I am out of town.
Then yesterday morning I leisurely packed. I shopped for food for myself and some for the family. I wrote a loving note, left a creative gift, and cut fresh flowers which will consciously go noticed. Then I peacefully gathered my necessary belongings, tucked our two dogs in the car, and nestled in for our calm five hour drive. One thing I forgot is that the sun sets earlier in the winter, plus I was driving into a different time zone, one hour earlier. Just before leaving, I googled, “What time does the sun set in Grayton Beach, Florida?” I cringed a bit when I saw 5:08 pm!
After arriving here in the dark, unpacking, and walking the dogs, the first thing I googled was, “What time does the sun rise in Grayton Beach, Florida?” I felt grounded when I set my sights for this morning. “6:42 am, I can certainly do that,” I excited drifted to sleep dreaming of a beautiful dawn.
I woke a few hours early, surprise, surprise, but I made coffee around 6:30 am to prepare for the momentous moment. Around 6:40 am, with my warm mug and our two dogs, I quietly ascended the spiral stairway to their rooftop perch.
One by one I maneuvered the metal steps to witness the beauty of this Sabbath morning’s sunrise. My spirit sunk down as I saw this sight.
Grey. Undefined. Melancholy.
I thought to myself, “For this Sabbath morning after the week we have experienced collectively, this type of sunrise feels somehow quite fitting.”
Grey. Undefined. Melancholy. Doesn’t this photo sum up how we feel as a divided United States?
Individually and collectively, a lot of things block our way to clear, complete dependency on the Author of our future. Yet today’s grey, undefined, melancholy sunrise whispers hope, “Through even this heavy overcast, God’s light continues to dawn within and around each and every one of us.”
We have a fuller confirmation of the message of the prophets. You would do well to pay close attention to this word; it is like a light that shines for you in the darkness of night until the day dawns when the morning star rises in your own hearts (2 Peter 1:19, VOICE).
…Sue…
P.S. Now, with permission, I share with you the wise words of our pastor following this week’s uprising.
