“Then your light shall break forth like the morning, Your healing shall spring forth speedily, And your righteousness shall go before you; The glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.”
Burnt-orange stained the hillsides and pathways. I wanted to stop. Take it in. Breathe it deeply. Take a picture. But, other demands called my attention.
I drank in the beauty; mesmerized by its spilling out; determined to keep the glow imprinted on my retinas for as long as I could. And maybe stamping it to my irises would emblaze the message into my soul as well.
The ride back home broke the spell but only for a moments disappointment as a heather grey sky blended with a golden layer of clouds. Like the horizon and the ocean meeting, kissing each other in greeting so did the grey embrace the now goldenrod glory in the distance.
My mind wandered to a long ago story. The morning sunrise must have been the most spectacular of all sunrises as it broke communion with the darkness of death. Death that took life, now gives life in the new dawn―a promise of life more abundant. And as the dawn woke the earth the breaking of stone, shuttering of ground, brought forth life from a tomb that cradled His Beloved for only a moment.
His brokenness became a spilling out of love, grace and mercy.
If I could just spill out myself, empty my heart, I could become who He truly wants me to be. I think. Each morning brings life from the death of night. Spilling willingly upon the deepest cracks it can find. Every morning, because it glories in the Father of Lights, the sky paints the words, “I love you. Come and live.” And I can either stay in my broken death or I can willingly spill myself into―onto―others.
Willingly offer my heart to the One who brushes love across the horizon. His mercies new every. single. morning.
I’ve cheated death too many times not to realize each new day brings new life, new breath, and second … third … fourth … thousands of second chances. What do I do with them but throw them back in the face of His love? How can I be free when every day I spend my time wasted on broken things instead of offering myself to His resurrected grace?
And what becomes of these babbling thoughts―what can I do with the message this burnt-orange blaze has wrought? Is there really meaning here or am I writing nonsense no one will understand?
But I close my eyes and remember…
When morning guilds the skies
My heart and my soul cries
In awe of the wonder of life
Death is overcome by His Light.
And I cannot keep in or contain
The fire Your breathe became
Mercies new every day
Become chances I need to embrace.
When morning guilds the skies
Breaking communion with darkest night
Second chances, mercies gift
And I cannot breathe
mezmerized by Your love for me.
~Marcell Warner Bridges
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Dear Friend, I don't know what you are facing today but I pray you know within the pit of your soul that you are going to heaven. Oh! Accepting God's love and offer of salvation is not just so we can go to heaven but so much more! Life here on earth, with all of its ups and downs, heartaches and joy, is so much better when we breathe God's love into our lungs every day. I hope every time you see a sunrise or a sunset you will think about God's mercies in the morning that will keep you through the day and God's gift of grace that brings you to the end of it. Every. Single. Day.
From My Heart to Yours,