New Morning, New Mercies
I woke up the other morning to the sunrise. A red ball shining through the trees, outlining the pine needles on the outstretched limbs with gilding. As I watched, the sun rays began to climb along the street and the lawns. The light yellowed from the flame, and the sky above grew pink and the day began.
The renewal of God’s promise of a new day blazed across my mind. Everything was new and fresh. Yesterday was gone and today had yet to reveal itself.
And God promises that His mercies are new every morning. When I watched the morning grow, I believed in His promises.
Later in the day, I finally took down my Christmas lights from the railing on my wrap around porch. Yes, I know, it seems like it is way past time. But as long as it is dark by dinner time, I like to see the cheerful, twinkling little lights in the shadows on my porch. It somehow lifts the spirit in the oppressive dimness of winter.
Especially in this last year. So many losses. And the Covid-19 pandemic still around. As I unwound the strings of lights interwoven with fake greenery on my porch, I could see how many had burned out. Somehow, even though that would be expected after two seasons of use, it still seemed symbolic of what we’ve all been through. Burned out. Isolated. Depressed. Yep, so much loss.
After my task was finished and my porch unadorned (and waiting for Spring adornment), I contemplated how the day began, and then how the afternoon had happened.
The true light blazed it’s way across the sky and the neighborhood. It brought warmth. It brought hope. I could not move away from it.
The little light brought joy for a time. But the bulbs quit working and there was no more light.
Don’t settle for glitz. Go for the real thing: the light that renews every day and brings hope.