As we get older, we become things and do things we swore we would never become. In my 20s, I saw my fair share of sunrises because I had been out all night. Not just here and there but all the time. I would always think about my grandpa who told me that waking up before the sunrise was a special feeling. Of course, in my ignorance I just laughed it off because he was old and I knew more than him. The thought of going to bed early and waking up before the sun arose was so foreign to me.
God, I miss that man. He was correct about everything. Everything. He told me how important getting sleep was and greeting the sun as it rose every morning. “It is God’s promise coming true every morning; who would want to miss that?” Again, as I lumbered through life, his words were always there, but they weren’t where I needed them to be and that was on me.
In the last few years as I have discovered God’s grace and mercy, I have also discovered gratitude as well. I went through a rough mental spell where I would pray to God that the sun would not rise every morning because I didn’t want to face the day. It rose. Every morning in the same spot as it has done since He put his hand on Earth.
I have discovered the power of watching the sunrise. Here. There. Everywhere.
I have discovered watching the dark turn into a beautiful light.
God is always talking to us. As I sat pondering my thoughts for this, I was scrolling through Instagram and I came across a post of someone describing what a sunrise means. It was told to him by his grandfather and it sent chills up my spine. His grandpa said, “Wake up late, and the world shapes you. Wake up early, and you shape the world.”
The same thing my grandpa was trying to tell his know-it-all grandson many years ago, but that boy refused to listen. He listens now, Papa, and he has found that gratitude that you described, accented by God’s promise that is made new every day.
A sunrise. Morning heals you, but only If you are awake to meet it.
Amen.
