Skip to main content


Arizona Sunrise
Photo taken 2/26/2014
I love a good sunrise.

My favorites are the ones that defy description and photography both.
The ones that tug at my soul and demand a moment (or twenty) of awestruck wonder.
The ones that make me feel like it was created for me specifically for that moment by the lover of my soul as part of his continued efforts to woo me...
To draw me deeper and further into the relationship we already have.

Sunrises might be part of what keeps me here in Arizona.
Maybe I'm just waiting to see how the maker of the universe is going to outdo himself next time around.

Easter morning, after a traditional Sunrise service and breakfast, and before Sunday morning worship, I found myself sitting in the classroom where I normally co-lead our youth bible study with just a notebook, a pen, and a lot of thoughts about sunrises.
Well, a lot of thoughts about the story of what happened that first Sunday morning after Jesus was crucified, too - long after the skies went dark, and the earth shook, and the veil was torn.

Sometimes, it's hard for me to get past that part.
I always find myself wondering, after moments in my life where something happens that seems to shake the world off of its proverbial axis...
How do I move beyond this?
Because the weight of the way things shift after those moments has a way of reeling me in and sucking away my joy.
It has a way of turning life into something to be endured rather than cherished, at least for a while.

And every time I go back to that story - the crucifixion story - my imagination won't let me see Jesus's family or his followers experiencing anything less.

But whenever I get to the part of the story where it is Sunday morning, and Mary Magdalene and Peter and John have been to the tomb where Jesus's body was supposed to be laying, I always try to imagine what the sunrise was like that morning.
After Peter and John went back to their homes.
After the angels appeared and told her what had happened.
After she spoke with Jesus and headed back to tell the disciples.

What I try to imagine always fails, though.
I think it fails because of what sunrises have come to mean to me.
They are more than the birth of a new day; they're evidence that God didn't shrink back from his promises.
The light of day made known his word is good.

Not much in the world could be more breathtaking than that.


Popular posts from this blog

My Writer's Toolbox: Thesauruses I Love

I don't know about the rest of you writers in the crowd, but there are times when I struggle to get the right words to come out onto the page. The debate over using thesauruses amongst authors can be fierce. My personal opinion is that there is definitely a place and time to use them (they've saved me from missing deadlines on a few occasions), so long as a writer is careful not to overuse them. Because I do consider them an essential in my writer's toolbox of resources, I thought I would share the ones I make the most use out of and where you can find them. 1. Webster's New World Thesaurus (credit: @catpollockwrites IG, posted 8/24/2017 ) When you were in grade school, did your teachers ever hand out those monthly or bimonthly Scholastic book catalogs with all the age-appropriate books coming out that they wanted you to buy? That, my friends, is how I got a hold of my thesaurus. It's almost like mid-thirties me traveled back in time and whispered int

Metaphors: Candles

I've recently fallen in love with candles. Since coming home from the World Race , I've bought at least one a month. My favorite candles are the ones that come in glass jars - because when they burn out, I can clean the remaining wax out and put the jars to other uses. Right now,  that means they get cleaned out and packed away in anticipation of my move to Flagstaff. But as I was lighting one tonight (vanilla spice... Thanksgiving smells? Yes, please!), I saw a metaphor for writing flickering away in the flame licking at the wick and melting the wax. I suppose it could be a metaphor for life in general, but since the theme of this blog is writing... Well, you do the math.

[Five Minute Friday] Purpose

Fiber bars, strewn along the side of the road. There had to be at least a dozen of them, still in their wrappers and completely unopened. No box in sight. Really? That's about the reaction my younger sister and I had when we stumbled on them on our early morning run. Really? along with disgusted sighs about the wastefulness of it. These were the expensive ones, not a generic store brand that kind of tastes and kind of looks the same sometimes. So, when we weren't keeping an eye out for their box, we speculated about what had happened. And wondered how many more we were going to see before the end of our run. "Maybe they took one bite and thought they were gross," my sister said. "So they threw them out because they didn't want them anymore." I let out one of those disgusted sighs and nodded along with her theory. "Yeah, or they got in a huge fight, and threw them out in a fit of rage." "That's a possibility." And