Waiting for the Morning


I am sitting in the dark, listening to gentle music, sipping hot coffee and watching the stars that God has hung in place, remembering that He knows their name.


I am waiting for the morning. I know it will come. It always does.


The change will be almost imperceptible as light imposes and the darkness becomes less sure of itself.


Then, a dramatic messenger from the east will stun the whole picture as with blazing glory all is overtaken and nothing looks the same.


The entrance is never exactly the same. Some days the clouds are outlined in a rim of purity. Some days a shy pink color heralds the main character. Today I am expecting to see a ball of fire that will rise to a perfect circle as the burning red becomes a glowing yellow and then yields attention away from itself and simply supplies the earth with light.


The trees, that were silhouettes become covered with bright green leaves. The stars have slipped out of sight. It no longer matters if the small light by my chair is on or off as the light from outside the window overpowers it.


I am sitting in the dark with some pages of my life story. I am waiting for the morning.


I know that in these dark personal places there is much beauty that I cannot see. I know the light will shine again.


Some of us are already thankful that the light has come. Some of us are asking how long?


I want to be one who waits for the morning with trust in the One who always keeps His promises.


Wait with me for the morning.

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