“It’s so kind of God to give us something so beautiful at the beginning of every day.”
That’s what Morgan said to me as we walked outside to see the sunrise this morning. And it’s so true. Every day, the first thing God does is paint a beautiful array of colors across the sky. It’s like receiving a postcard in the mail every morning. And then, as that painting becomes a slow-moving film piece, a symphony of bird songs begins to grace the background.
And while I’m taking this all in, I thought to myself: How often do I miss this? I mean, really, how often is the first thing I do each morning slamming the alarm clock and grunting into the dark of our room about how I just want to keep sleeping? How often is the first thing I do Facebook or email or news? Or how often do I just simply sleep through the beauty? My mornings are often so short-sighted that I miss this beautiful, kind, daily gift from God.
As a side note, I think this little scene serves as a fairly accurate picture of God and man. While God is so perfectly constant in the way that he directs and sustains the world—while his loving-kindness never fails—man is so inconsistent. We are tired in the evening, groggy in the morning, occasionally happy in the afternoon. We are so here and there, so up and down. But that doesn’t change God and that doesn’t change his heart. He does not grow weary and he paints a new sunrise every morning.
And now that I think of it, while sunrise is a sure gift every morning, how many other little gifts are there throughout the day? How many little reminders that God is sustaining the earth. How many little pictures of the gospel? How many little evidences of God’s heart? Maybe it is in the embrace of a friend or an afternoon breeze. Maybe it is in a song that I hear or a fleeting thought. I don’t want to be some kind of hyper-spiritual cook, but I think God is a lot more active than we know.
Now, about those hyper-spiritual people. You know, the ones who are always talking about how “God told me this.” or “God showed me that.” Aside from feeling like I must be some kind of lower class of Christian because I don’t hear God like that, I think they might be on to something. Perhaps God really is speaking and showing. Not necessarily in some kind of hyper-charismatic way. But in the sure things. In the sunrise every day. In the beating of my own heart. In the grace of anther breath to breathe.
O how sure and constant is the love and kindess and grace of God! O Father, remind me when I lose sight, that you are love and you are active and present in each moment. Show me your love, let me know your kindness, help me to find your little graces.
O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints’ and angels’ song.