Painted clouds

Happy Easter to you all! I say that because it's what you say, but in reality, this Easter, "happy" isn't really how I'd describe the current temperature. Painful is a more appropriate adjective. It seems that everyone I know is walking though some dark cloudy storms right now. Those closest to me are facing giant mountains, circumstances that seem hellbent on laying them out or burying them. And I could lump myself right there with them. We are weary. I am weary. I fall into bed at night feeling like I've just spent the day at an amusement park-exhausted, kinda smelly, my patience is long gone, and I just want to go home. And at the end of the day, "home" is the sweet release of sleep. Thank you Jesus for sleep.

So, this morning, when I awoke at 5:00 am for no particular reason, I was a bit annoyed. I tried to slip back into dreamland to no avail. The idea to watch the sunrise on my balcony popped into my head. This isn't something I've ever done, but I found it fitting that Easter would be the day I do so for the first time. (I mean, I've seen the sun rise before, but never because I had nothing better to do. It was usually on the way to the airport for an early flight, or to go to a doctor's appointment, or in my younger days, on my way home after a long night spent with friends).

So I got out of bed, grabbed a blanket, and headed out. The sun was just starting to lighten the horizon. I sat and looked into the sky and pondered. Most of the sky was still gray, streaked with dark wispy clouds, and one bright star still hung in the sky. I focused my eye on that star. My mind swirled with all the struggles I and my circle are facing. Before I knew it, the sky had brightened, the gray clouds turned a brilliant pink, and there were things in the sky that I couldn't see when it was blanketed in darkness.

The symbolism wasn't lost to me. In the darkness of my struggles, if I can just focus on that one bright light shining through the gray, it will carry me through and guide me to the morning. Just as the Sun sits steady and shines brilliantly in the center of our universe, as the planets spin round and round, Jesus stands firm and waits in anticipation for us to turn toward Him. Just as the world rotaters toward the Sun, if I can turn my gaze toward Jesus, the Son too will shed His light onto the gray clouds in my day, veiling them in beauty. What comprised the clouds this morning didn't necessarily change. They still consisted of that which made them dark and painful before. But now, with the turning of the world to face the glorious light, they reflected the beauty of the Son. I cannot paint my clouds pink. I cannot make beauty from darkness . But when I turn toward the Son, He can. And in that turning, things will be revealed to me that I couldn't see before.

I pray this Easter finds you well. And if it doesn't, I pray that you would find that one bright spot in your dark sky to fix your gaze upon and let it guide you into morning. You may be in the midst of your Friday, a Friday full of darkness and pain like that fateful Friday over 2,000 years ago, but hold tight to your Guiding Light. Sunday is coming. Morning is coming.