Birds used to wake me up every morning with their chirp, chirp. The sweet sounds were a gentle alarm and made me smile. Then we switched rooms. My bedroom is now at the opposite end of the house where birds don’t make their home or sing their song. They have now been replaced with something far better, which I didn’t think was possible.
Almost every morning daylight peeks under the curtain that covers the window just above my face. There’s a certain time when it makes an entrance and speaks love with an invitation to linger. Each morning when it speaks, I roll over, lean my face toward its call, and greet the Light of the World. We talk a bit until I’m ready to get up and face the day.
Last night I experienced something quite different. The Light woke me as usual, but when I leaned toward it everything seemed off. The sky still carried the dark. Right in my line of sight, however, was the very Light that woke me. A large full moon. The Light not only came during the day when all was well, but it appeared most brilliant against a sky of thick darkness.
That darkness has been especially thick lately. The usual life-stuff we all experience is sometimes thickened by moments and events that clog our plans, deaden our motivation, and trap us inside ourselves. I tend to forget that the Light will come for me. With my head buried under layers of concern and stubbornness, I act like it is not there and will never care to find me again. But it does.
The Light still greeted me this morning when I woke. The sweetness was there, and I lingered. But my appreciation for Light was different. I was able to absorb the full-moon, dead-of-the-night Light and know I was wrapped in its Goodness, even while knowing the dark. Our Light is faithful even when it seems most dark.
