These mornings it's still dark when Mr. Whiskers decides it's time for us to get up. I confess I'm often not eager, but as soon as that first light breaks in the east I have a change of heart. The words of an old hymn come to mind. "When morning gilds the skies, my heart awaking cries, "May Jesus Christ be praised!" (Author of original unknown. Tr. Edward Caswall, 1814-1878)
On the Saturday evening of our Canadian Thanksgiving weekend the setting sun lit up the foliage on the trees with spectacular light. I raced outdoors with my camera to meet my neighbours doing the same thing. One of the ladies said they were doing dishes and at the moment when the sun broke through they were asking each other, "Where is this light coming from?"
Light has such power. The sky may be black except for one splash of sunset colour, and we cannot stop ourselves from focusing on the spectacular hues of red and orange and all the changing blends created. I pray that the same will be true in the spirit... that there will not be one who can resist turning his eyes fully away from the darkness of the lies of the enemy and toward the truth and light of this world, the Lord Jesus Christ.