“When roosters crow/like Nature’s alarm clocks/that rouse a resting Earth,/
let Morning come/with virginal blush that peeps/softly through Night’s dark sky./
As a genial Sun rises/to share welcome warmth/and light, let Morning come/
for owls returning to roost,/for farmers ready to labor/in their forests and fields./
Let Morning come with its promise/of beauty for ashes, joy for sorrow,/and a spirit of praise for heavy hearts.”
– “Let Morning Come” by Sandra H. Bounds (published in “Sacred Journey: The Journal of Fellowship in Prayer”)
Time to let morning come. For so long now I have been immersed in loss. Loss of innocence. Loss of wealth. Loss of my mother. Loss of an image and experience of God that was too small but made so much sense and gave so much comfort. Loss of a job. Loss of a sense of security. Loss of my children as they move on into adulthood. Loss of dreams of fame and glory. Loss of a certain degree of youthful optimism. Loss of faith in institutions and their ability to meet the pressing needs of our time. Loss of respect for a Church that prefers superficial comfort over genuine reform. Loss of respect for people who could have known better and done better but chose not to do so. Loss of self-esteem as I feel that gap between the man I am and the man I want to be grow to be a chasm. Loss and loss and loss and loss……
But enough of that now. Grief is not the same as despair. Loss is not always bad – is often good. My ego is a cramped place and does not give ground easily. Illusions were made to be shattered. People cannot break your heart unless you have a heart to break. Roaring wind and shattering earthquake and raging fire and flood will come but the Still Small Whisper remains present and distinct. She only awaits for our response.
And so I will respond. Let morning come. Into my life. Into the core of my being where the Spirit dwells. Time to turn away from the night; the sun shines so brightly, the breeze blows so gently inviting me forth to new adventures and new discoveries. How could I have not noticed?
I heard a rabbi once say that the reason the Bible exhorts the faithful to place the commandments on their hearts is so that when their hearts are broken the love of God might come in. The cross is not about suffering as an end in itself butas a means to conquer the night.
The fields are ripe for harvest. Time to take my place among the dancing, joyous laborers. I will not look back. I will not become a pillar of salt.
Let Morning come. For all of us.
3rd millennium pilgrim