Sunrise

When was the last time you watched the sunrise?

As I keep pace with dear friends as we train for Race A Hallelujah, I see the beauty of early mornings with new eyes. We witness the black, star sprinkled sky fade to brilliant color. Purples, oranges, and pinks reflect on the pond we circle on our route. 

One frigid morning in December, a friend and I ran past houses draped in twinkly lights welcoming Christmas and she wisely noted, “There is something inherently beautiful about light in the darkness. It’s a truth. We can all see it. We delight in the twinkling of bulbs strung across a patio, Christmas lights dancing on display, and the stars lighting the sky.”

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5

In the beginning, God created light before he created a light source. He separated the dark from the light before He made the sun, stars, or moon. He is light, and darkness cannot overcome Him. 

How beautiful is it that God not only gave us this truth in His Word, but He also displays these truths in the world He created for us. Romans 1:20 says, “For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made.” As I watch the light of the sun overtake even the darkest night, I remember there’s no darkness too dark for Him.

Do you know what else happens at sunrise? 

A morning song. 

Robins chirp cheerful melodies, red wing blackbirds cry from rooftops, and mourning doves coo long and deep. 

I find it hard to sing these days. 

I’ve recently struggled to delight myself in God and His Word because my heart is so heavy. So heavy, it seems to have stopped, and no amount of chest compressions can restore my pulse. I am weary of living a life without Emmi in it. I need paddles to make my heart beat again. 

Do birds ever need the jump start I seek? If so, I wouldn’t know it. Before the sun lights the sky, they simply wake and sing. 

If birds can rise with song, why can’t I? 

Mourning doves greet the day with a song of lament. How thoughtful of God that he would create a bird whose song sounds like mine. I don’t have to look farther than creation to see that my laments are welcome. 

Laments can begin a new day. 

Laments can mingle with tending a nest. 

Laments can take place in flight. 

Laments are not songs that sing only of sorrow, they resolve with a chord of hope. A distinguishing mark of these honest prayers is trust and hope in God even in the grip of pain. 

Lament has been the single most healing practice I’ve learned in this past year, but I still need to be reminded to lament. I build up walls around my hurt because I don’t want to cry when someone asks me if I have other children while I’m playing at the park with my two year old. I don’t want my life to be this way, and I’m uncertain if an inquirer would be ready to listen or frightened away by my honesty. 

While I don’t have to bear my soul to everyone I see, if I’m not careful I might build a wall that separates me from only One who can carry my burdens with unending tender compassion. Coming to God with my brokenness makes my heavy heart beat again. He doesn’t run away when I come to Him with my heart wide open, pulsing with pain. He tenderly welcomes me and reminds me He is with me. I breathe again when I call to God who listens to me. I cry to Him with my complaints, claim truth about Him, and choose to trust Him. 

As we each carry our own sorrows leading into Easter this Sunday, let us carry our sorrows to God in a prayer of lament. We have confident hope in Jesus because He cared for us enough to lay down His life and He is powerful enough to have victory over death. Next time you see the sunrise, remember: because He is risen, we can rise too. One day, we will be whole again.

A Mourning Song

God, You are brilliant light.

There’s no darkness that You cannot penetrate, no gloom You cannot pierce.

Just as the sun chases away the black of night

You triumph over darkness

My heart hangs heavy

Wondering what kindergarten would have been like this year with Emmi

Aching that Rose no longer plays with her in the backyard

Crying out, how could it be that she’s not here?

I’m weary with living. 

Each day is the same old thing, 

What is my purpose now?

My days as a mother of two were exhausting, 

but I reveled in the warmth of two snuggly girls in my lap. 

I cannot go back to the comfort of holding both my girls

I cannot rush forward to the sweet freedom of heaven

I must remain here, in this murky middle

Show me the sunrise God

Show me the brilliant colors you wish me to see

Lift up my head, come close to me

Wake me up with your song

Then, I will sing like the mourning dove

I will sing low of my sorrow

I will sing deep of my trust in You

Grief has awakened my faith to a new break of dawn

As I cry, I hold onto hope

My imperfections no longer separate me from You

Because You redeemed me 

As you rose from the grave, 

You shone more brilliant than the dawn

Proving your patient love

Proving your power over death

You are my hope, my only hope.