/PHOTO BY CIMONE ORTEGA/
I love the sunrises here. Some mornings you’ll find us running a mile up the mountain to get the perfect view, steadying our breath as the sun slowly lifts herself from the valley. Other days I watch the shadows of palm trees as they recede, and snuggle up in my hammock while the day begins. And every time, I feel like I know a little more. Here’s some of what I’ve learned from Dominican dawns.
The sun will rise, and you’re not the one making it happen. Whether you’re watching or not, it will find its place in the sky. All you can do is pray that you’re awake when it does, and facing the right direction.
When the light is coming from the earth, those clouds are a lot darker, like smoke atop a world of ruins. But the higher the sun gets, as it steps onto its rightful pedestal, the more clear everything is. And those clouds don’t seem so threatening anymore, because your perspective starts not from the earth but from above. COLOSSIANS 3:1-2
We’re in the mountains, so when we usually leave to run it is already fairly bright out. That makes it seem like there’s no sunrise to be seen. But when we get to our lookout spot and gaze over the valley, we see the sun rise. It may not cut through the night the way we expect it to, or the way we first remember it did, but it’s beautiful in its ascending glory. It makes me realize that our relationship with Jesus is the same way. Maybe there was a time in our lives when we first realized what the Gospel meant. But its truth has been the same since the day Jesus defeated death. We don’t need to have 365 first-time epiphanies of the Gospel each year. He has already done the work. He has already won the fight. We can look around and bask in the light and the truth that surrounds us, and still see His light shine amidst that, and still find it beautiful.
God is vast. He is a brilliant painter and a wondrous creator. He gave us color.
There is renewal every. single. day. 2 CORINTHIANS 4:16
