sunrises whisper hope

For as long as I can remember, I have loved sunrise. From the time I was only 6 years old, getting up at 5:30am with my maternal grandpa – hearing him making coffee in the kitchen (though it was hot cocoa with marshmallows for me). To crawling out of bed, wiping sleep from my eyes, for early morning fishing trips leaving the house at 6am with my dad and older brother.

Sunrises… early morning… soothes my soul and whispers through my spirit of new life and hope.

In 2006, my family uprooted and moved to southern Oregon. I was only a year out of college, a year into my career as an interpreter, and a year into a new year out of an unhealthy relationship. I was also in a season of limbo, trying to figure out what exactly God was doing and where He wanted me in this big world and in life. We moved to a little map dot in the woods, just off the lake. That lake… in some ways… became a place of calm for me, a refuge. I would find myself, in the midst of roiling questions in my heart and befuddlement in my mind, sitting in my car at the lake in the wee hours of the morning… facing where I knew the sun would rise.

Because of the lake, in the cooler seasons, fog would be thick covering the lake, and the mountains just behind. It was always a gamble, whether or not I would actually get to see the sun itself. At first, this would frustrate me. To get up, brave the chill, and sit alone in the cold, gray semi-darkness… and not even get to see a sunrise, especially as that was exactly how my soul felt many of those mornings in that season of life.

Some mornings, the sun would rise in glorious might… rays shooting majestically through the fog, burning it away with ferocity… daring it to try and resist. Other days, the sun would come up softly, gently, quietly… slipping into the sky without fanfare. The fog remained, and yet the light of day still came.

The Lord spoke sure truths into my spirit through those many mornings we spent together on that lake… waiting for the sunrise together.

Whether or not I can see it — whether or not it is veiled by fog or clouds — the sun still rises. Every. Single. Morning. Whether or not I “feel” it – God’s mercies are new. Every. Single. Morning. His love is real, present, NEAR… regardless of the fog or clouds in my heart or mind. He is still there. Faithful. True. Unfailing. DAILY.

Sometimes He chooses to rush in with power and glory… pushing aside all the fog and darkness and confusion, with a triumphant authority and ferocious love. With LIGHT and TRUTH. And other times, He is content to be there, still NEAR and no less present, but without the fanfare and lights… stealing through the circumstances in my life, pulling me to TRUST and worship Him even in the mundane and unremarkable days… being faithful to praise and obey even in the grey.
He whispers through my spirit, reminding me…

“The path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, that shines brighter and brighter until the full day.” (Proverbs 4:18, NASB)
and
“The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot comprehend or overpower it.” (John 1:5)
and
“God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.” (1 John 1:5b)

And my soul finds itself calmed and at peace, cradled in His love, hope, and faithfulness.