The green grass fades while the blue sky darkens to shades of gray. A magnificent array of red, orange and yellow spatter the clouds with peace, contentment, hope. A single bird flies across the sky, as if it were homeless this evening, searching, seeking, wanting a place to safely land and call its own. Yet the bird flies on with something, something unknown to man, on its mind.
The wind turns to a soft breeze as the cool, gentle breath of nature begins to blow through heaven’s air conditioner vents.
The front porch rockers face the west and glide back and forth as the sun shoots off its version of fireworks in the clouds, as if to say goodbye, and goodnight, until tomorrow’s morning light.
There is a peacefulness that massages the soul, as if magical fairy dust was being sprinkled in the heart. There’s no need to speak, no need to move, no need to think. There’s only the six inches of back and forth movement of the rocking chair rolling to and fro. If it took any effort at all, the rocking chair would cease its swinging hug.
There has to be a God. This can’t be, not without God. It can’t be worth it, none of it, without God. This sunset, this moment, this ability to see, this feeling of love for the woman rocking beside me on the porch of our house; this is not chance or circumstance any more than the smart phone, left conveniently in the house, could have randomly come into existence without a grand design.
Suddenly a feeling of tiny insignificance moves through the heart’s fairy dust and tickles the soul, like a tiny bug walking, tickling the skin, as it meanders across the arm. The insignificance is not lack of purpose or meaning. It is simply a reminder that the universe is vast and expansive. It is a reminder that God is God, and I am not.
A hand reaches from the rocker beside and touches mine. Quiet never spoke so loud.
Hand in hand the rockers glide in rhythm as the sun sends out more intense red rays, as if to say, so long for today. All the while the moon’s translucent white seems to push the sun to the other side as a reminder that tomorrow will be a new dawn, a new day, a new beginning.
It matters not whether this day was work, worry, problems, or pain, or whether it was peace, joy, laughter, and goodness. Tomorrow morning the sun will return to the back porch in similar stunning elegance and gladly greet all who take the time to embrace its glory.
Tomorrow is a fresh start, a new time, another chance. Skinned knees, dirty elbows, sweaty brows can be wiped clean and heal. Tomorrow there is a new sunrise, a second chance, a fresh canvas. If it’s been good, today can be sought after again. If it’s been bad, tomorrow can be repainted, replanted, reshaped with new hope.
The sun is a measuring cup of hope, health, fresh starts, and it will rise again tomorrow in the eastern skies. The One who created it all, the One who fashioned it all in perfect balance will also return one day in the clouds from the east.
No matter where you may find yourself, may your sunsets give you deep sleep under the peace of the moon. May tomorrow’s sunrise awake a new beginning, a fresh start, a second chance. Most of all, may the Son smile upon you, and His light, show you the way.