To the east, as I was driving the boys to school, the sun was beginning to rise. Vibrant colors began to slowly seep across the sky as if some watercolor paints had been tipped over on a wet canvas and were somehow spilling upwards. The colors---how to describe them----were tropical, for lack of a better word. Mango-orange, pineapple-yellow, and passion fruit-pink, with streaks of brilliant white clouds, lit up from behind from some unseen source. As the sun began to peek above the horizon, the colors slowly faded; "He must increase, we must decrease," said the colors as they bowed before the sun's brilliance and disappeared.
The east no longer demanded my attention, so I focused on the road before me again, driving up the hill towards the school, the boys and I singing along to a John Denver tune (shocking, I know). Fittingly, the song "Welcome to my Morning" was playing...
"Welcome to my morning, welcome to my day. I'm the one responsible, I made it just this way. To make myself some pictures and see what they might bring. I think I made it perfectly, I wouldn't change a thing."
Was God reminding me in the song that He created this watercolor canvas in the sky that I had just witnessed? I smiled at the thought. We arrived at the school and I hugged and kissed the boys and watched them skip off to their classmates.
My Sequoia started it's slow decent back down the hill and I always love taking in the scene of the snow-covered mountains surrounding the valley that I am blessed to call home. From the back seat I hear Dominic say, "Mom, look at that huge sun!" So I look to the east, but the sun is totally obscured by houses. A bit bewildered, I take a quick glance to the west. I look again and have difficulty looking away. Resting upon the mountains is the largest moon I have ever seen---no wonder Dominic thought it was the sun! It was setting, tucking itself under the covers of the mountains until nightfall, and somehow it managed to dwarf the size of the snow capped mountain peak before it. I was in awe. I longed for my camera, as if that could somehow help me prove God's existence to some non-believer somewhere. I recall an atheist boy I knew in college...would this convince him? Probably not. God shows His presence every moment of every day and still so many refuse to see the sacredness that surrounds them, refusing to believe in the One who made it all. But I believed in that moment that God just confirmed not only His existence, His power, but also His intimate love for me. He didn't have to make this world so glorious to prove His glory. He could have made every day dull and grey and saved the majestic moons and mountains and sunrises for paradise alone, but he didn't. He chose to give us these glimpses of His glory now...out of love. Simply to bring us joy. Simply because He loves us and every lover is constantly trying to delight his beloved. Just because. I am so thankful we have such a loving God, a gift-Giver, a creative-Creator. May we strive to give Him glory in these sacred sunrise-moonset moments (and in the not-so-sacred ones too) and help others see His handiwork and His gift of eternal life that He offers unceasingly, as unceasing as each sunrise and moonset.
"This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice in be glad in it!"
Psalm 118:24
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