But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall (Malachi 4:2 KJV).
I had a plan this year, but I watched helplessly as it caught the fluttering breeze and flew away. But to my credit, I didn’t panic. I knew things would eventually get back to normal, and I would be back on track the following week. (You know where this is going, don’t you?)
That didn’t happen. As one month turned into two, and then two months turned into six, I struggled to keep the same schedule while juggling more responsibilities. I grew angry with myself for not being able to do it all. Add health issues that left me with debilitating fatigue and memory lapses, and you have the perfect storm.
I fell so far behind, I felt as if I was drowning. One afternoon, I stared at my computer and made the decision to close the office until life settled down. I walked away from both manuscripts for ten weeks and accepted my situation for what it truly was, an opportunity to serve. Suddenly, my schedule didn’t look so important. The stress of trying to do it all gradually fell away, and I found peace.
I no longer worried about keeping up. Instead, I turned my attention to the sunrise and gave thanks for a new day.
Each morning held a wondrous gift. Some mornings, it looked as if the pine trees were on fire. Other mornings, the first glimmer of sunshine turned windswept gray clouds into pink cotton candy strands.
One foggy morning, I could barely see the cars in front of me (the perfect metaphor for my current season). But then, fifteen minutes before I reached my destination, I peered out the window facing the eastern sky. Amid the gray expanse were three minuscule streaks, here and there, just above the tree line. Suddenly, that ugly gray sky held a beautiful truth:
Yes, the days were dark and scary. But no matter how gray the skies looked, the Lord was there, just like the sun was still there, hidden behind the fog and rain clouds. All I had to do was not give up, but chase the sunrise.
And chase, I did!
My friend, I don’t know what your year has been like, but I know we serve a Savior Who hears His children’s cries. We are not alone. Look up and keep chasing the sunrise!
I no longer worried about keeping up. Instead, I turned my attention to the sunrise and gave thanks for a new day. #hopeTweet