“And there was light.”
Sundays are busy days for us. For some reason ~ the preciousness of ice time, I suppose ~ Sunday mornings are when my sweet son’s hockey games are played. It is also ~ for that same reason ~ the day that the Apple of my Eye plays hockey. They play at two different rinks in two different cities, so the way it works out is that my hubby is up and out before 6 a.m. and my boy and I leave awhile after that. Then, after his game is over, my hubby joins me at the boy’s game.
My daughter snoozes happily away. Lucky girl.
It’s not easy for me. I’m one of those people who prefers to recognize only one 6:00 per day, and a.m. isn’t the one.
Well a few weeks ago, I got up when it was still dark and woke the boy. Then I stumbled back into my room to get dressed and presentable-looking. And all the while it’s getting a little lighter outside. Still dark grey, you understand, but lighter.
And then while I was in the kitchen getting myself something to eat, my boy went out to the garage to load his equipment bag into the back of my car, and he called me to join him. But all I did was take two steps out into our garage before I stopped, astounded.
The whole garage was lit up, pink. The most glorious sunrise I have ever seen was pouring through the windows of the garage door.
I opened the door so we could take it all in, and we both just stood there in the driveway, in the cold, gazing. The light grey was streaked with shades of golden yellow, vivid orange, and brilliant pink. Gorgeous. I was glad to be sharing it with him.
Later that day, when I checked facebook, there were people posting about it, and I thought about how on most days, all I’d be able to do is appreciate someone else’s photos. This time, it was a nice memory for me.
Here’s the thing: When I got up that morning, I could not have known. Would the sun come up? Of course. But I could not have known how glorious that sunrise would be.
In the darkness, we simply cannot know how beautiful the light will be.