Morning Glory

Some mornings I wonder how I ever could have doubted the existence of God.

I am utterly amazed at the natural beauty surrounding me as I sit here on my balcony and center, as has become my Monday morning ritual.

Before even sitting down the birds begin to serenade me. Coming from all directions, in different pitches and tunes, they sing their morning song. Welcoming the new day. Welcoming me, as I come into my resting place, a small balcony overlooking their home in the trees. All their noises uniting into one perfect melody. Their rhythm enters my soul. Bringing an indescribable peace.

I look up and see them dancing to their tune in the trees. Hopping from branch to branch. Moving about with grace and ease. Do they even know the magic of the song they create? Perhaps they chirp with pride. But no, I think they chirp from a humble place of joy and thanksgiving. For a new day is here. And they sing and dance together, welcoming the sunrise in all of its glory, offering shouts of praise to their Creator.

And the sunrise...at first only the slightest bit of pink and orange glowing softly in the horizon. Gray clouds and a dark blue sky gracefully painted over with watercolor shades of warmth. Igniting the sky. Reflecting off the once gray, now purple and pink cotton candy clouds. The bare branches of the trees surrounding my balcony hang over the sunrise. Shading the brightness. Blocking its full brilliance. As if to say it is too powerful to see in full view. Or that I am simply not worthy of its majesty.

The pinks fade into orange. And just above the black treetops in the distance, its source is revealed. At first only a glimpse of yellow. Then a half-circle emerges. Turning the surrounding sky a glimmering yellow. Finally the sun arrives in full view. A complete circle. Golden in hue. Shinning so brightly one cannot look directly on for more than a moment's time. Again, a sign of its pure beauty and immense value. After all, it is the sun. Which calls forth the day, wakes us up, and tells the story of its creator. Majestic. Powerful. Brilliant. Breathtakingly beautiful. Worthy of all praise.

In the daylight, I now see the trees more clearly. Bare except for a few crunchy brown stragglers, brave enough to hold on tight for winter. The branches amaze me. Ever multiplying in different directions as your eyes move from trunk to the sky. Intertangled. Different shapes and sizes. Stronger closer to the source and thin and fragile as they move away from their source. But holding each other up, the stronger branches with more access to the roots are supporting the weaker ones with fewer resources.

I can't help but think how like a tree this world is. How like branches we are. Different shapes and sizes. But all connected. All woven together. All part of the same tree. Coming from the same source, God. Sustained by that same source who first created and us now nourishes and holds us up. And as we stray farther from Him, like the thin, fragile branches, we become weak. But as we move into Him and come into intimacy with Him, we gain His strength. We can stand firm, like the trunk. No longer needing to worry about swaying in the wind. Or falling in the rain. Or being broken by a storm.

And we are all connected by our Creator. We are all responsible for one another. For our health, well being and survival. Like the thicker branches hold and steady the thinner ones, we must support the weak. Give rest to the tired. Share resources with the poor. As all of our strength and stability comes not from us, but from The Source. It is our obligation to give it back out. For we could have been that small, weary branch carrying the weight of the world on its tiny back. But by God's grace alone, we were created with thicker bark and must hold up our fellow branches.

I look at the natural beauty surrounding me this morning, and I wonder how I ever doubted the existence of God. Or how I could still doubt His goodness. His reign. Or His plans.

I look out over my balcony, and I hear God whisper into the trees just over the birds' morning song,

"This is who I am. This is always who I am.

Good. Beautiful. Brilliant. Majestic. And in control.

How many sightings of morning glory will it take before you believe the Truth being spoken about me in your own backyard?

I am good. I am and always will be good. I am beautiful beyond what you can see. Brilliant beyond what you could possibly comprehend. Majestic beyond anything on this earth. And in complete and constant control.

I am God. And I am good."