As much as I’m uncomfortable with the dark, the space right before dawn, where dark gives way to light, where what was hidden becomes seen, is my favorite time of day.
Here in Florida, the anticipation of the sun is a daily happening. Rare are the days that are completely cloudy and the sun doesn’t shine at all.
As I sit on my porch, the air is a little cooler, colors are dustier, and birds compete to be heard. I have friends who are birders, and they would know which bird sings which song. The best I can do is imagine what they’d look like as their music fills the air with unique sounds.
This is space to breathe.
The light begins its slow and steady appearance, where birds flying by can be seen as shadows. There’s no clear demarcation yet; the leaves on trees morph together in a mass of grayish-green, and the lawn is a subdued blanket of indistinguishable blades of grass. The surface of the pond is dark and opaque.
God begins to move the dimmer switch to bright, and with each passing moment, hues become obvious, birds become distinct in coloring, and individual leaves on the tree can be identified. The Great Conductor is allowing the orchestra to warm up to present the new day in all its glory.
When the sun crests the horizon, everything becomes clear. What was unidentifiable in darkness has been given clarity in light.
We’re in that waiting period before there is an understanding of the global situation of COVID19. Every day brings new statistics and rules to follow.
We’re in that space where we need to breathe. Where the dark has lingered and will soon dissipate into dawn.
We know this to be true: darkness can’t last forever. What we fear now is what we don’t know. What we can’t control. What we don’t want.
It’s so much easier to focus on what’s wrong, what’s bad, the problems that crop up because of our circumstances. Many are forced to shelter in place. People are losing jobs, aren’t bringing in paychecks, don’t know how they’ll provide for their families. These are real issues, tough problems that will need to be solved.
I’ve also seen the beauty of people reaching out to others, bringing supplies to those in need, groceries to those who can’t get out, a sense of hope to those who’ve lost it. My daughter-in-law is a physician’s assistant, and she’s been working tirelessly to help those get needed care even though she has three young boys at home who could become infected by what she brings to the house. Non-profits, like A Precious Child in Denver where my daughter works, have redoubled efforts to help those in need.
Crises can bring out the best in us. It’s when we allow the wonderful gifts God has invested in each of us to shine through for the sake of others. It’s how we look beyond our fear to help those who may be hurting more than we are.
This darkness won’t last. God has said that even darkness is as light to Him, for He is greater than any darkness we might confront. Greater than our worst fears.
There is Light at the end of this tunnel. I guarantee it.