It’s early on a Sunday morning, of a long weekend, that marks the end of summer in so many ways.
I hear the Wonder dog shake his sleep from his head, then the wet of his tongue on my arm, hanging over the side of the bed. Blech!
I reach to the other side of the bed, empty. This summer has been one of trading places. He often rising before me. So I tap his side of the bed, the known invitation for my buddy to leap up onto the bed with me. I sense him searching, sniffing and looking for my face to lick. It’s his way of saying, hey lady, I don’t have indoor cammode, I need to let out for my relief.
I lift the covers higher, turning to the other side, my face safe from his slobbery expression of love … ok, it’s really his urgency to get me to let him out, but I am the interpreter of this dog.
He settles, a loud sigh, fully communicating his impatience.
I open only one eye, gauging the time of day by the light peeking around the curtains and the sounds of cars passing by. I reckon it is near six. I relax, sleep calling me back to it’s magical place.
This is so odd for me, this slow morning wake up. I can recall mornings as a child, awakening in my childhood bedroom, sun peeking in around the window blinds and my heartbeat racing to start the day. I would leap out of bed, afraid to miss out on one moment of the day (especially if it was a weekend or holiday).
Rise! Shine! Your new day is dawning. The glory of the LORD shines brightly on you.
Isaiah 60:1
That verse describes my typical morning awakening so well. It is as if I had an urgency to start the day. The time on the clock is redundant, it could be 6am, or 4:30am (eye roll). Either way, once my lungs have taken in the deep morning breath, sleep is no more, for I know that my calling is to be awake.
That is similar to the call in Isaiah. Though it were written to Jerusalem, it applies to each of us. We cannot bring the light of dawn, for it is this morning light that is our light. Another way to say it is that we have no light within us, except for the light that God gives. Sure, we might be able to muddle around, using our human instincts, but without the light that comes from Christ, we are not seeing clearly.
The thing is, our walking in the dark, we have chosen this. We chose to muddle through the dark, though each morning we are reminded of the call of God, through the light of the dawn.
This morning light also reminds us of our daily opportunity to start over, fresh. Like the oft quoted words of Anne Shirley, “tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it.” This daily rise of the light is our morning whisper to choose to live in His light, to shed our pre-occupation with the false illusion of our own good, our own sufficiency.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23
itsawonderfilledlife 