Does it ever feel like some things will never change?
I am here to remind us – for at least the third time in the history of this newsletter – that:
The sun does not actually set.
And what on Earth does that have to do with anything?
Sometimes I go to the roof of our apartment building to receive the sun’s golden kiss goodbye as it slips into the Mediterranean spread out on the western side.
The light of day fades so gradually you can never quite pin point a moment when day passes the baton to night.
What’s actually happening, of course, is that my little spot is turning with the rest of Earth, degree by degree, away from the sun. The sun doesn’t set:
We turn away from the sun.
We are not motionless fixtures, watching things around us come and go. Rather, there is something stationary, fixed, and consistent out there that holds Earth, holds us, in place.
So when our planet turns away from the sun, we turn towards the still darkness of night for a time of rest. We keep turning so that without changing direction, we turn back to the sun.
Without changing directions, we turn back to the sun.
While we sleep, with no effort of our own, we are turning back to the light, and morning comes again, right on time. We can rest knowing that this is something that we can count on, regardless of anything we do or do not do.
And with each new turning towards the light comes another fresh opportunity to start again. Each morning is a new beginning, movement forward.
There is a beautiful statement about God’s enduring love tucked in a book of poems lamenting the destruction and devastation of ancient Israel and promising that it would not always be like that.
“The faithful love of the Lord never ends. His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness. His mercies begin afresh each morning.” (Lamentation 3:22-23)
Whether we are coming or going, feeling like everything is bright and cheerful or feeling the “dark night of the soul,” we can rest knowing that God is as constant and unchanging as the sun we see in the morning.
He will continue to pull us towards himself and the warmth of his love. And he promises that it will not always be like this.
Movement in a direction can happen so slowly that we may despair that any thing is happening at all.
In my case, I’m going through a very slow healing from some muscular skeletal issues that have produced moderate to severe pain in my body for the past 5 1/2 weeks— the kind of pain that keeps you from walking around and robs you of sleep.
Whole new layers have been added to my understanding of rest and no doubt these will work their way into future invitations to rest..In the meantime, I’d appreciate your prayers for continued recovery.
May you find rest right where you are and may it be sweet.
Alicia