Skip to main content

Up before the Sun














There's something about getting up early. It's quiet and still. But here in Maine, it's cold. Warm feet hit the floor, usually sliding into slippers, and not too long after you turn up the heat, things are warmed up and you don't actually mind the hour on the clock. But this morning, 6am came early, it was still dark and it was cold. We jumped out of bed, raced to dress warmly and ran out the door. We were racing the sun. Our goal was to get to Wolfe's Neck Park to see the sun come up over the water. Not the perfect place to see the sunrise in Maine, but it's close and it's beautiful.

We hiked down the hill to the water through the snow, ice and evergreen trees. It was quiet, still, and cold, very cold. We made it in time to see the sun peeking through the clouds low on the horizon. With frozen fingers we took as many pictures as we could, trying to capture the quiet, the stillness, the cold, the snow, the forest, the sunrise. Thoughts about how good God is, how amazing He was to create such beauty, how faithful He is, just come to the surface. It's hard to be in such a place and not see evidence of His presence.

I don't necessarily have to get up every morning in time to see the sunrise, I know it will and without a doubt it will be spectacular. But on occasion, like when family or friends are here to visit, it's a real special experience to share. They see the beauty in Maine for that one moment like we see on a daily basis. Sharing our love for New England is so rewarding!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Weekend Project and Hale Navy HC-154

 We've been in our house for a year and 10 months. The way time passes, it seems like yesterday we were moving in, unpacking boxes and figuring out how to make this new house our home. We were extremely fortunate in every way, and feel blessed beyond our wildest dreams, to even be able to find the house, buy the house, and move in when we did. Each month that passes, it feels a little more like our sanctuary . But not without some intentionality however. A home should reflect your own personality, your own inner feelings, your own spirit. It would be extremely difficult for me to move into a home, that someone else had decorated, painted, put their heart and soul into and find my spirit could rest there. I feel blessed to have started with a clean canvas in this home. There's something about starting fresh, with everything clean, and new. It's easier to call it your own. As so many stories go, the previous owners had to vacate because of a foreclosure sit...

something Old....something New....

For a long time now, my love for so many things has been in growth mode. It seem that with each passing year, the list is shorter, more concise, more specific, more manageable. There is not so much cluttering what is truly important. What has been most significant all along is now even more visible and more significant. Somehow, before, on occasion, it would have other less important stuff sandwiched inbetween, or on top of it swishing the life out of it, or underneath it taking away the very foundation of it's importance. But, as the months and years go by, what doesn't belong falls away, separates from the real and becomes what is least. After that phenomenon which seems to only be visible upon a certain maturity, what's left is classified as beauty, love, joy and a satisfied spirit connected to other like spirits. I'm writing this on the eve of a birthday...my own. I know, it's not my style to promote my own birthday, but this one, for some reason, I'm part...

Just Simply - Now OPEN!!

Life changes on a dime. We've all been there. That one moment in time you won't ever forget that seemed to change everything. Your direction, your focus, priority, energy, emotions, everything. Whether you wanted it to or not. Sometimes it's a surprise, other times, it's planned. Like the birth of a baby, could be either! Or taking on a new job, could be planned. Or the loss of a job, probably unplanned. A car accident, way unplanned. Getting a new car after the accident, also unplanned. Could be planned, maybe you wanted a new one anyway and this was an excuse to finally do it. Finding just the right dress for a party, planned. Running across it in the least expected place, unplanned. And then there's all the tragic, unexpected things that happen. Never planned. Transitions, in whatever form, are never cookie-cutter simple, smooth around the edges or follow a well organized checklist. It's messy. It's disorienting. It's chaotic. But somehow, on some o...