I remember the pitch black of an early African morning, heading out to “hunt” with friends in Masai Mara, looking for leopards, rhinos and a lot of adventure. The chill of the morning kept my eyes open, and I saw it. The sun rose like I never imagined. Not with a streak of light on the horizon like I’d seen so many times, but one enormous red ball all at once, an orb of fire suspended in the dark of night. And, the light followed, blinding and brilliant.
Joy is that way sometimes. It wells up unexpected in the darkest hour. You see it though you don’t yet feel its warmth. But it is there, and day always breaks.
The warmth follows the rising.
Dark nights turn into days. They do. And, the joy of His presence in the darkness makes the light all the more dazzling when it shines.
Most Fridays, I join a host of other bloggers and write for five minutes on Lisa-Jo’s chosen topic…join us!