April 13, 2019

365 Days of the Great Names of God, Day 134: Rising Sun

Rising Sun

"The rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." 
(Luke 1:78b,79 NIV)

I've always liked the adage, "The darkest hour is just before dawn," which I first came across in the "Little House on the Prairie" books. I know some people find this saying trite or even depressing, but to me, it's hopeful: often, when we're in a dark "hour," the light of a new day is just getting ready to break...even though we might not be able to see it.

The "hours" just before Jesus the Rising Sun heralded a new day were arguably the darkest of any age. God had by most accounts been silent for 400 years. He had not sent new prophets to deliver His messages. No godly king from the line of David was on the throne. Messianic prophecy that a righteous, redeeming Branch would spring from the root of Jesse seemed stalled in unfulfillment.

But then: "the people walking in darkness" saw "a great light" (Isaiah 9:2), and from that new day forward, this Rising Sun has never set. Not even when He hung on a cross and darkness was given its hour of reign (Luke 22:53). Not even when His earthly body was shrouded in the tomb's blackness. 

Not even...not ever.

Sweet friends, if you're in a black night yourself just now, how I pray you'll soon start to see the glimmer of a new day.

In the dark night of mourning, the Rising Sun is the light of joy.
In the dark night of weakness, the Rising Sun is the light of strength.
In the dark night of turmoil, the Rising Sun is the light of peace.
In the dark night of despair, the Rising Sun is the light of hope.

Dear Jesus, thank you for being fully present with us in our dark hours. Thank you for being the Rising Sun that heralds the dawn. Help us see You with eyes of faith in the darkness and then to turn our faces to the east to watch You break a new day.

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I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to tell me what you really think. Years ago, I explained to my then-two-year-old that my appointment with a counselor was "sort of like going to a doctor who will help me be a better mommy." Without blinking, she replied, "You'd better go every day." All of which is just to say I've spent some time in the school of brutal honesty!