It is December.
There’s a rustling.
Far off at first – softly hidden.
Like a crescendo strategically placed in a carefree passage, the rustling turns into a consistent buzz becoming louder to my ears.
The buzz that now fills them and can no longer be ignored. Alas, I must leave the moon I was standing on, turn away from the city that needed saving, and scuba dive another day around the pier that is encircled by reef and sea.
I am being awakened – transported from this daze of dreams and back to the cold yet tranquil morning in north-east England.
The buzz. I had already hit snooze twice but no more able to convince myself to slumber any longer.
The reality of the buzzing that has been made known to me as my alarm has also brought with it the reminding presence of the sounds that will slowly begin to stir and pick up pace around me.
For now, all is quite quiet…except for Ben Rector’s steady vocals and the buzz that comes from the vibration of my phone sitting on my night stand.
Eyes still having been closed now slowly stretching open.
The alarm is turned off. Outside my window, the sun is still neatly tucked under the dimly grey English horizon and I wonder what colours will present themselves today.
Seconds pass and it already seems as though the streets outside my flat are welcoming cars every now and then of passerby that will soon produce an over abundance of noises and bustling.
Inside, all now remains quiet for minutes longer.
“Be Still. Be Still.”
My eyes focused and now looking up onto the ceiling above me. My brain warming up from sleep mode has the option of choosing from multiple paths during the first part of my early morning.
Which one and how will I begin my day?
Such a small and meagre way to ponder the morning hours but I’ve lived and breathed the words that exclaim, “how we start our course on a morning can set us into the direction of how we live that day.”
- “Good morning, Lord.”
- “What about coffee?” – distracting but a delicious and acceptable path to think upon.
- Everything I have on schedule for the day… “Oh wait, there’s been a last minute change!”
No, this last thought is too soon to let my sanctuary-like early mornings be filled with the appointments and tasks of later day.
Then, deep down, a wrestling emerges. My early mornings are filled with either great joy or a low grumble. Sometimes both at once.
And the LORD hears my grumbling.
“My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.” (Psalm 5:3, KJV)
As if to answer me, the sunrise begins.
Every new one different from the last but beckoning to be seen from above the English horizon of a dimly lit town and grayish winter skies. The sun emerges and with its rays of colour – a visual joy breaks forth.
A Creator – my creator who brings forth the sight of one of his marvellous creations. A sunrise complete with the artistry of what man has deemed comparable to a painting of watercolours throughout the sky.
Shades of different colours vibrant to the eyes or not – all reflect for me a symbolic reminder of a promise, of love, and of action. A joy that is eternal.
Praising the Lord for each sunrise I see during my early mornings here in England paint a new way to set off for the tasks of each day.
The flat no longer quiet. The streets bustling with cars. The sun peeking out over the tree tops with dark rain clouds hovering in a close distant.
The time that ticks by reminding me of what else lies ahead and the small joys strategically placed throughout the day reminding me.
Still, there’s the memory of the sunrise this morning for now.
A reminder of a sovereign Creator – my creator who seeks my presence. A desire – my desire to bring Him glory.