For some, this day began rather grey and gloomy. But not for me. I know how this day really began. For the Great Creator called me out to see
His masterpiece this morning.
It all began around 5:00 with one of my kids not feeling
well. I was just settled back in bed
when I heard, “Mom”. Even as I went to
check on the voice I wondered if it were God.
He’s done this before. Sure
enough, everyone was sound asleep. I
tiptoed downstairs, scrounged around and found a pair of my son’s socks to
wear, got on my shoes, grabbed my keys and left.
As I started down the sidewalk, with anticipation of what
God had in store, I looked at the sky.
Cloudy. It started to drizzle
lightly. “Oh, no,” I thought to
myself. “I’m not dressed for this.” I pressed on, eager to see what was
next. I crossed Main Street. There was a clearing near the horizon. Promising.
I stop just short of Redwood Bridge and lean against a power
pole, feeling conspicuous as I wait.
Suddenly I see them. The clouds, first
bluish-grey, are now tinged with just a hint of dark red.
The breeze is chilling me and the rain is still lightly
falling. I step down a few feet near
some trees and gain shelter.
It is the perfect view: winding river, expansive sky, and
tree silhouettes to frame it all. Minute
by minute the red glow is brightening, then second by second. It is almost as if a dimmer switch were
cranking up the sunlight. Now everything
in front of me is glowing in a coral-red colour: both clouds and water. Backing up a little, I turn to see the rest
of the sky. Swirls of pink form a canopy
over Main Street and the Orthodox Cathedral’s domes are softly illuminated.
I am in awe, struck by the incredible beauty surrounding me,
and by a God who would invite me to witness it.
A few geese break the silence with insistent honks. They skim the water, land, and swim toward
the sunrise. I stand entranced as red
turns to orange. I descend the slope as
more geese call out. The tops of trees
are highlighted now and a building downriver is completely bathed in gold.
The sunlight is pouring onto the willows on the riverbank and I decide I want that light on my face. I walk upriver until I see it. The huge ball of fire on the horizon. The light is blinding. I cannot even face it at its brightest.
The sunlight is pouring onto the willows on the riverbank and I decide I want that light on my face. I walk upriver until I see it. The huge ball of fire on the horizon. The light is blinding. I cannot even face it at its brightest.
Something catches my eye.
There is a dance going on. Light
has just begun to hit the top of the bridge.
The pigeons are awakening. Twenty
of them fly up from under the bridge and their fluttering wings catch the light
as they circle and land. I wonder if they
like the feeling of the light so much that they spend the extra time dancing in
it. More and more birds leave their
night nest and join the others in their front row sunrise seats. Is it a morning ritual for them?
The colour has left most of the sky and shifted to
yellowish-white. I walk past the
paddleboats and up into St. John’s Park.
A shaft of light gilds the edges of trees and low-lying plants. Something in me knows to turn around. The cross over Holy Family nursing home is a
brilliant white against a background of blue.
“Light of the world, you stepped down into darkness”. The words of a song flash into my mind. Incredible.
I turn back toward the sun once again. My time is nearly done. I decide to walk through the park. The flowers are beautiful and I am thankful
for this green space tucked into the North End.
I look back up at the cross. Its
shining moment is over. I pass the
Cathedral. The smell of donuts wafts in
the air. Dull, grey clouds surround me now
and I thank God for his gifts to me this morning.
From now on, when I wake up with gloomy thoughts to match
the sky, I will remember. It’s quite
possible that I’ve only just missed seeing the light. But it was there. And it was beautiful.
Each day has promise.
No comments:
Post a Comment