Then this morning I woke early, rose reluctantly a half-hour before the alarm’s setting. And there she was as I turned down the ferry road – full, shining out from behind clouds that blurred her light into a hazy mist but could not obscure it. Before I reached the highway, I turned onto a little-used road and pulled over to watch her sink behind the ridge, her light remaining a beacon of grace long after she disappeared.
I would that someday I might learn to give over the reluctant thanks for real gratitude, knowing that those moments that don’t feel wondrous hold the seeds of beauty, whether I see them then or later, whether it is beauty seen in the world or beauty grown in us through His grace. He delights to delight us, in the midst of this broken world. “Glory be to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and always shall be.”