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Friday, August 3, 2012

Indigo Sunrise

 Lamentations 3:21-23

The Message (MSG)
It's a Good Thing to Hope for Help from God
 19-21I'll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
   the taste of ashes, the poison I've swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—
   the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there's one other thing I remember,
   and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:
 22-24God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
   his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He's all I've got left. 


Up until the heat drove my walk into the confines of the gym, I ended each evening with the setting of the sun and a long walk to the golf course, around the paths vacated by golfers and back home again. I was sad to see summer approach, knowing I wouldn't have much tolerance for the Oklahoma heat and humidity. The thought of moving my walk indoors to a treadmill that was flanked by sweaty bodies and blaring television sets wasn't as inviting as having a breeze on my face, listening to frogs in the pond and watching the day give way to the moon. This morning I hopped out of bed at 5 a.m., grabbed my kindle, phone and ear buds and headed to the gym. When I stepped outside into the dark, I was pleasantly surprised by tolerable temperature, so I turned around, ditched my keys and thought an early morning walk in the great outdoors sounded much more appealing instead. It was a perfectly still morning. Most houses were dark as people had yet roused to face the day. I enjoyed watching the sky turn from darkness sprinkled with twinkling stars, to a indigo blue as the sun began to rise. As I watched the sky turn before my eyes, it reminded me of God's merciful love, and I took comfort in knowing that if I had somehow managed to drain God of all of his mercy and grace with the setting of yesterday's sun, All was not lost.  The dawning of the morning brought with it infinite mercy and grace that even my parched soul could not drain. 

Psalm 139:17-19

The Message (MSG)
  17-22 Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful!
      God, I'll never comprehend them!
   I couldn't even begin to count them—
      any more than I could count the sand of the sea.
   Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with you!
      And please, God, do away with wickedness for good!

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