I’ve been intentionally watching the sunrise and sunset more often in the past year. Standing in my west windows in the evening and simply being in awe of the painted sky is definitely on my list of favorite things. Similarly, if I’m fortunate enough to still be home in the morning, I’ll set myself up in my recliner for my reading time, facing the eastern expanse to catch a glimpse. I’m guessing it’s that whole “growing older” thing. Life just hits differently.
We were driving home from town this evening and the sky was exceptional again. (Of course, my phone simply won’t do it justice.) For the next several minutes, I pondered these: sunrises and sunsets. They don’t come blasting over the horizon to shock and surprise us. Likewise, they don’t drop off as if being dunked by Michael Jordan in an abrupt slam. They slowly (almost unnoticed) peek out or duck back in as if they wonder if anyone is paying attention.
As I’ve started my third year of reading through the Bible, I’ve come to realize that God’s been revealing Himself to me in much the same way. Little glimpses of who He is, what He’s done, and who He’s created me to be have been scattered throughout my life.
When I first accepted Jesus as a teenager, I had absolutely no clue what that meant. I knew I didn’t want to go to hell, and that was enough for me. In the 40+ years since that decision, I’ve developed this desire to know and understand more. But just because I had the desire didn’t mean He was going to suddenly throw open the gates and impart all of Solomon’s wisdom to me in one sweeping motion. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have known what to do with all of it anyway. Instead, He gradually tilled my heart, making it more receptive to His plans and purposes. He took what I learned and slowly added to it; like the ever-changing colors of the morning and evening sky.
There’s a lot to be said for fantastic teachers, preachers, mentors, and friends. I’ve certainly been a recipient of wise instruction. There’s definitely a place for that. But just like the two on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24, Jesus must be the One to open my eyes. On days that dreams are shattered and hope is hard to find, the sunrise and sunset are still there. It might not look the same. But He’s still God. Showing me one new color at a time. One new texture. I can read a section of scripture that I’ve read countless times before and suddenly see or realize a truth that enhances my view in ways previously inconceivable.
I pray that this year we all have our eyes opened a little more. That we allow God to teach us in the sunrise and the sunset. In the busyness and in the stillness. In the peace and in the confusion. Gradually. One shade at a time. With each stroke of the brush in His hand.
Luke 24:31, 45 ~ Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him…………he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.