In the month of March I can see it from the deck of the beach house...that big orange sphere of fire and heat. In June, though, it necessitates a few extra steps down and then up again onto the deck over the dune, for we have moved further away since last I saw it...its peeking point hiding behind other people’s vacation getaway houses.

I have missed that moment too many times while refilling my coffee cup over the years, the nanosecond it takes for the sun to break over the horizon. So now I have disciplined myself enough to not avert my eyes, even to watch those mesmerizing waves, else I might miss it. THE moment.

I have also learned to look for that very specific horizontal sliver of clear light, otherwise who knows WHERE it will break through, because the sky is all fire and movement and change for at least 30 minutes at dawn.

There are a few things I have discovered in my 43 years that are worth getting up for even though my body craves delicious sleep. The birth of a baby. Quiet time with Jesus. Carolina sunrises over the Atlantic Ocean.

And you know what? In the darkness, during the night as we sleep (or not), it's us earthlings who have moved away. Silly humans, the sun doesn't revolve around us! That sun is not rising over the ocean! We are moving toward IT!

How good of God to demonstrate His relationship with us through His beautiful creation. If we are in darkness it's because we have turned our backs on Him. But if we turn toward the Son, as we lean into Him, just as the earth starts turning toward that source of heat every morning whether I'm awake to see it or not, He brings life and light and love.

Sometimes, as in the case of just the other morning, there are clouds obscuring my view of that blaze of glory. An overcast sky, however, does not prevent the sun from rising, from doing its job of showing up for work every day…it’s still there. Faith and faint light tell me it’s still there, and the clouds WILL clear and the warmth WILL come.

I hope our eyes and our minds and our hearts are not blocked by things of this world. The clouds that can oppress. I hope we all lean toward Him today, and bask in His beauty and faithfulness. I hope that we give Him credit for never moving, never shaking, never turning from us, no matter how often we turn from Him. I hope we take in as many sunrises as we are able...that we see for ourselves, "The heavens (do indeed!) declare the glory of God!"

A photo, you ask? Not with my pitiful little phone camera. It would be an insult to the sun. You'll have to get up and see it for yourself. God will meet you there, I promise. And don't bother with sunblock...He won't burn you like that sun. He'll love you like a Father.