Beauty in the Simplest Places
It happened early last Saturday morning in the midst of a slew of errands. I left early, hoping to beat the crowd. It seemed like an ordinary day in all regards . . . the sun was only starting to emerge, and the chill of morning pervaded my skin. But as the drive wore on, I looked over to the right, and I suddenly got a raw, powerful, soul-edifying glimpse of God's handiwork.
The sky was now slashed with streaks of pink, orange, and purple, golden rays shooting from the clouds. I was nearly breathless with amazement. Truly there is no other logical explanation for such beauty, day after day, morning after morning, than an Almighty and merciful God. I could only stare at the scene with a warm, tingling feeling of glory.
Then, as I have dedicated my life to remembering the martyrs of yesteryear and am always thinking of my Protestant ancestors and their sacrifices, I realized how such visions must have stirred their hearts and given them hope. I imagined Huguenot refugees knee-deep in snow and ice, trekking through the Alps in the hopes of escaping to Switzerland, perhaps feeling as if God had forgotten them. How often did they look up to the incredible beauty of a pink sunrise and suddenly feel once again that God was love? Such images impress upon the mind in indelible and incredible ways.
There are few things I enjoy seeing more than a sunrise, God's "good morning" in so many ways.
(c) 2012 Joyously Saved
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