Observations From A Wicker Love Seat
There is nothing like a sunrise or sunset to bring me peace and hope. Often I watch sunsets that settle my spirit and soul after a hectic day. This morning, Easter Sunday morning, April 24th, 2011, I am sitting on the wicker love seat on our front porch having my own private Easter Sunrise service with the chirping birds, the brown bunny slithering through the now tall grass that needs mowed so badly, the robins dancing, hoping to find a huge Easter worm for breakfast, and watching the glory of the painted skies explode.
I love watching the dispelling of the darkness to greys of clouds that have been deluging our area for days, the soggy ground sighing with relief, the payments still darkened from moisture. Those grey clouds soon get touched by an orange flavor around their edges as the artist begins painting a picture that changes with every moment, every second. A dash of red now is sprinkled around select clouds accenting their position. As the reds intensify, even the large clouds that usually blot out the sun on a cloudy day yield to the power of a sunrise and allow their undercoats to be dashed with reds and pink tints. With the sun on the horizon, even these clouds must yeild to a sunrise’s power. Soon the wispiness of lower lying clouds appear, white, light, almost dancing below the now lightening grays, oranges, and ambers. With the sun, not yet appearing, broad brush strokes of reds now streak the belly of the once ominous clouds, bringing color over their despairingly dark countenances, erasing the darkness, converting the clouds to color, then whiteness as the power of the resurrected sun announcing a new day slowing peeks as a sliver of a gold ball above one cloud igniting the heavens, one side flaming oranges, the other side hues of pink, royal purples, touches of rose reds.
Now for my favorite part: The darkness of the empty spaces between clouds burst from darkness to the softest blues. I dream that when I die, I will fly through those soft hues of color and light into a special hue of blue that only the light of a sunrise or sunset can produce. As the sunrise climaxes, darkness has no chance as it dissipates, folds, yields, gives way to the majesty of the lighted day, a new day, a day of promise and hope, a resurrected day. I now have to shield my eyes from the sun’s brightness. What looked as ominous clouds, now turn into fleecy white spectacles, cotton balls of beauty, floating gently across the sky. Somehow, the birds seem to change their tune announcing a new day. Momma robin now brings fat worms to screaming babies; the Easter feast has begun!
We, too, can experience that sunrise in our lives if we allow them to be a resurrected life in Jesus. This past year, my family and I have faced some really dark clouds that attempted to hide the light of life. Sporadically a ray of light, a ray of hope, a stream of light, a stream of life would permeate through. The darkness of life’s challenges brought despair, trying to choke out our hope for the promised resurrected life. It looked so dark, and we yearned for a resurrected sunrise of faith in our lives, for it was as if our faith was being tested to its very core as we faced the cross, another crossroads in our lives, that place where we call on the supernatural to vertically dissect the mundane, natural, horizontal relationships of our daily lives that seem to bring constant conflict. I almost have forgotten the power of a sunrise, that resurrection of light dispelling all darkness, conquering all ominous clouds, the painting of breath taking beauty of colors over what looked as a dark, hopeless canvas. With the sharpness of the sun now shining, darkness is gone, forcefully yielding to the power of the light, transforming ominous clouds into white beauty floating on a haze of majestic blue, deepening in color with every passing second.
On the canvas of the sky, the power of light, the power of life prevails, illuminating my faith to another revelation: In spite of the darkness in one’s life, Jesus is the light. In the darkness of despair, conflict, and hopelessness, God can paint over top of those situation a barrage of beautiful hues, colors, and images that can change, can transform, can renew the whole picture of the meaning of life. One simple sunrise can bring rebirth.
As I close, the group of clouds that once tried to hide the sun now glows, with a glow of stunning whiteness, a reflection of the brilliance of the rising sun, so it is in our lives. As my time of meditation concludes, I realize the power of the resurrection, the power of light conquering death and darkness, the power of hope over despair, the power of life over death, the power of renewal, and the power of rebirth. May I constantly be reminded of these truths for the rest of this year! Wow! This may be the best Easter Sunrise service of my life!