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By: Kerri Grinder

Psalm 143:8  Cause me to hear Your lovingkindness in the morning, For in You do I trust; Cause me to know the way in which I should walk, For I lift up my soul to You.

A sunrise.   Much like the birth of a new life, the most powerful and most gentle display of God’s majesty wrapped in one glorious, breathtakingly, beautiful moment.   Ordinary? No, far from ordinary. Extraordinary! Each and every morning nothing short of miraculous, to be held in awe, revered and appreciated, begging a prayer of gratitude and praise from our lips.

I have often wondered how many times I have been blessed to witness a sunrise.   Some are memorable. Rising early, excited to leave for a week of vacation, packing the car and leaving the driveway while it is still dark.   Watching the sunrise through car windows ushering us into a new day, a new week filled with the promise of fun and excitement. Christmas mornings when the kids are small and up very early, again filled with excitement.  

One morning I watched the sun rise through the window of a hospital.  I had spent the night with my mother who had surgery, a double mastectomy, the day before.    As she slept, I prayed. The news from the surgeon had not been what we had hoped. The cancer, thought to have been contained and non-threatening in any way, had, in fact, spread to her lymph nodes, and hopefully nowhere else.  That would be determined later. I felt as though I had been punched in the gut. We did not expect this. I was caught off-guard. I was caught by surprise. God was not. But I was. I felt afraid. Afraid for my mother. What did this mean now?  Really mean? I stood staring out into the darkness, continually praying, pleading, begging God to come near. And then it happened. I caught the slightest glimpse of light breaking through the darkness. God was there. Once again, I was caught by surprise, for I had no idea it was so close to morning.  I stood in awe at the supreme, indescribable hand that wrought forth such an event. So completely powerful and yet so gentle, so quiet. Silent strength. It was like a gift placed in my hands. As if God were saying, “I am still here. I am still on the throne. I am still in control. I see. I know. I care.  I still love you. And your mother.” Tears rolled silently down my cheeks for I didn’t want sniffling to wake my mother. I dreaded the day ahead. The doctors would share this shattering news with her today. I prayed for her heart to be steady and strengthened in her faith in the Lord. I prayed for her to have peace, admitting it was evading my own heart at the moment.  I stood there watching the light wash over the world, changing everything simply by its presence. Gradually, I could see the trees, store fronts, cars in the parking lots, benches, grass, details that had been obscured from sight just minutes before. The light was transforming. His light was transforming. It made everything new. I knew that whatever we faced, we would not face it alone.  God, who causes the sun to rise each morning, who created the world and everything in it, who created my mother and my own being, who holds all things, including the sun and the moon in His hands, was watching over us this day and every day. I was so grateful for His gentle, miraculous reminder. The situation had not changed, but light had come through the darkness, and God had come near, bringing comfort and strength to a weary soul.  He is so good to us that way.

With my love and prayers ,  Kerri Grinder

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