One thing I never tire of is the beauty of God's creation. Almost always I am thinking about the beauty of His artistry, searching for His painterly, beautiful qualities of the life He gives, and dreaming in the color of His beauty; for truly, it is quite difficult not to ponder beauty, especially on sunny days.
I woke up the other morning by the pure light of sunshine pouring through the blinds that cover my windows. Instantly my heart brightened and I sashayed out of my bedroom, twirled, listened to love songs, smiled, danced, skipped all the while singing, “La-la-la-La-la,” dreamily because it was sunny. I read much poetry, wrote some of my own, read outside, drove my car with the windows down, smiled at the sky with my eyes closed and I laughed. I did all of this in the space of a few hours and proceeded to then fill my day with many other things as well.
Sunny days are so good for my heart.
I love this time of year—the twitterpated time—when the sun shines, the stars are bright and the cricket and frog’s symphonies are at midnight. It is so beautiful. However, where I live, right now it seems as if we are on the brink of spring yet still teetering because old man winter simply loves us too much. We have had some overcast days in which at certain times, the clouds burst as if they simply are overcome by an incredible tragedy and they pour their tears down on us in a great escapade of raindrops. Winter is having a hard time letting go of us, the dear, green Northwest, and who can blame him? Where we live is beautiful—even in the rain.
I love the rain, truly; however, there is something about it that doesn’t brighten my heart as the sun does. I don’t have the urge to sashay about the room when the rain comes down. Rainy days aren’t always good for my heart. They are cold and wet and don’t proclaim the same amount of “Hope!” as sunny days so wonderfully do.
I think that is what I love about the sun; it feels as if it is hope materialized and created; His glory beheld. However, in order to have the sun in all its glory, there must be rainy days prior. And rainy days are miserable if there is nothing to cling to; nothing to cover us from getting a cold due to the water falling down around us—there has to be hope that it will not last forever. Faith that the sun will shine someday soon; something to get us through the grayness of rain.
I think it must have rained in the garden the third day following Good Friday so many years ago. I always imagine Mary sitting on her knees crying near her Savior’s tomb, with the blades of grass below her already damp from the morning rain and her tears adding to the remaining dew. Her heart was numb and heavy, I imagine, with little hope because the One who had liberated her from the seven bonds that plagued her was chained only three days earlier. The Man who protected her and loved her not for what she had done but simply because she belonged to Him; His life was stolen. He was buried in a tomb and the hope in which she held dearly onto was the stories and parables He had told her while on earth, I think. She really loved Him, and to remember Him within her heart must have brought her hope on that rainy morning. Hope that the Son will once again shine and sit with her.
The Gospel of John records this time in such a vivid way. Mary was in the Garden feeling absent from her Savior, trying to hold onto Him, honor Him somehow. However, in the space of a few minutes, she went from downtrodden with nothing, to being filled and brimming with hope. The morning was rainy and gloom-ridden, however after realization dawned in the time of a few words exchanged, the sun shone and the hope in which she clung became glory radiating.
When Mary beheld the dear face of her Savior, God and King, I imagine she did a bit more than simply sashay about the roses. I think she danced, and sang and praised and laughed and twirled and gave all she had in response to His glory aglow. Her hope was renewed because His glory resounded. The hope in which she cherished and embraced became living, breathing, laughing, singing and glorious praise because her Savior lived. Her rainy day didn’t last, but her hope more than lasted—it carried her through to the glory of the other side of clouds.
Rainy days don’t make us want to twirl and sashay, however, hope-filled hearts on those days might make us desire to dance to the boom of thunder because hope now means glory will soon blaze. Sunny hearts are good for rainy days.
The forecast predicts, “62 degrees and rainy,” in Portland this Easter Sunday. However, Easter is the perfect day to be hope-filled and waltz to the “1-2-3” between thunder claps. Our Savior lives! What better reason to smile with sunny, hopeful hearts than to know that one day, on the other side of these monotonous rainy days is eternity where we will have the Son shining with us—gloom gone. Sunny hearts rival even the brightest day in regards to beauty. And hope can’t help but make us sunny inside. Praise and glory be to God!
Happy Easter!
"And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us." - Romans 5:2-5
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." - Romans 15:13
