Christmas Sunrise

The sky was past pinkness when God woke me to share sunrise with Him

this Christmas morning,

the settled paleness just before dawn.

One spot beneath a cloud was lit with burning intensity

to mark the place the sun would break the horizon.

All at once I whispered to my sister,

“There it is; there it is!”

and I would have clutched her arm and dragged her toward it
if we hadn’t been sitting.

A tiny fragment of blazing light too bright to watch steadily

was engulfing the trunk of an evergreen just below the cloud.

As if in worship of the God who created sunrises,

an icicle on our roof let go one tiny drop into the drift below.

For only a breath, the sunlight touched treetops.

Then the glow was advancing.

I could watch it move towards me.

Indeed, I was watching the trees and ground

because by now to look at the sun was unbearable.

Unlike the dusk, which simply falls as soon as the day has set,

morning advances as if in ranks,

as if kissing each object before it moves to the next.

At last the light peeked above our fence and around trees

to set the blanket of snow covering our yard on fire,

reflecting light onto my own face and hair.

I thought of clouds of glory, those in which Jesus will return.

Today I could not see that.

Through sunrise I saw the message of Till We Have Faces.

Only resurrected eyes and new faces can see the glory that accompanies God.

Until then, though, I am delighted to watch it

fall like raindrops on my days

or dance like moonbeams through my life.

To God be all glory!