Dawn

When I think of the beginnings of a day, I go back to great dawns.  I could easily be in Southern California; much of the U.S. is bitterly cold and here it is a sunny, blue skies, sixties seventies kind a day.  It is hard to be angry, bitter, or fearful.  Everything is possible if I let the wonderful stillness around me fill me with its peace.  I could be sitting on the beach in South India, watching the gentle waves reminding those reflecting on life of the unending rhythms and patterns.  As I close my eyes, I can feel the tropical breezes.  I can sense the unending wonder and hope found in the eyes of the children that call this home.  I could be in London, catching a glimpse of the growing light piercing its way through the hodge-podge of architectural designs that shape the city.  Even here, in the early morning quiet, there is an impending sense of hope and things being new.
 
Each dawn is the hope filled answer to the darkness of the night.  I often find myself struggling with demons and hells of my own creation.  I wonder why I have to live in the world where I find myself.  “Isn't it God's anger that's behind all this, God's punishing power?  Their [any and everyone around me] whole world collapsed but they still didn't get it; their life is in ruins but they don't take it to heart.”  (Isaiah 42.25)  Am I doomed to live out their fate?
 
In the presence of morning’s hope, I don’t begrudge the challenges of the night.  It is good to wrestle with life’s demons.  In the darkness, I hold onto the promise of the dawn.  I remember how God has already vanquished my demons.  I recall how Hope arrives with the dawn and in the eyes of children everywhere.  I struggle with the assurance that I am God’s beloved. 
 
Today dawn comes with Hope, Promise, and Peace.  Each was here before the sun or the light.  They were present, even when I could not see.