The sun rises, and it’s another Sunday morning. Shadows reach across the room while the peace of God trails in the rays. I’m comforted in a place where angels tread through the night; my spirit rejuvenates, waiting on the sun’s warmth. Though my thoughts are a million miles into the millennium, I remain still. Like a minute hand that gently sweeps, the shadows change as the sun progresses. Of all the things my world dictates, being idle isn’t one. So, before I alter my course, I hesitate… the Lord brings His blessed morning.
My rickety old wingback can only conjure up so much comfort but God anoints my spirit. He shares his promise of hope through prayer, as I look at spring’s budding branches in the bright, blue morning light. I dare not move. Not wanting to disturb the reverence, my Father leads my mind to calmer waters. He surrounds my world with heavenly thoughts as I pray for all those in despair. Through my precious gift of writing, which only He bestows upon me, I try to touch everyone. We are children of God seeking His messages.
I feel a warmth that comes only from above, and I ponder those that have come and gone. My past once loomed in the thunder as I tried to weather the rumbling storms. I know, now, only God sent His peace into my life. Today, my heart is satisfied. I rebuild my faith every day and pray for those who doubted my strength. In the quiet of this Sunday morning, humbly, I thank God for His strength, too.
Though my day fills with incidentals, I pray for everyone who gives thanks to our Father for the morning light. We come to his alter, sovereignly, on this Sunday morning with thanksgiving and praise. May our Lord be an anchor for broken spirits that need mending as only He can give the comfort and love you seek. And though the long shadows have turned to shade, my comfort comes from the love He gives me…. Amen.