I watched the sun set last night. It was beautiful.
At worst, on most days, we miss it all together. At best, we might notice the shadows lengthening and the colors of the sky changing.
But last night?
Last night I was at the beach and watched that ordinary, everyday phenomenon take place and it was quietly epic.
I'll admit that I almost missed it. It was kind of cloudy and there hadn't been much sunshine so I wasn't really even looking for it. But my Mom called out and directed my attention to the little bit of light breaking through the clouds behind me.
That was all...just that bit of yellow showing through. Sort of pretty, but not really anything to write home about. I turned back to watching the kids feed the seagulls. When the bread was all done I tuned around and this time...this time I turned to see the clouds fleeing.
I knew something was coming. Quickly, I gathered the children and we crossed the street to find a place. To stand. To watch in wonder.
More light flooded the skyline.
The orange ball taking a more distinct shape...showing itself clearly as it sunk lower on the horizon.
I stood and stared, literally watching it sink before my very eyes. It dawned on me how much a part of my life the sun is. Always there, even behind the clouds or when it's no longer visible but still there.
And I thought of the other morning when he had already left for the day and a knock sounded at the door. He was standing on the other side with his hand out...a small fragrant gardenia being tenderly given...a sign of his affection and regard for me even when he was gone the rest of the day. His love for me always there.
I thought of the One who walked so many years ago. His love carrying him to the cross. And I thought,
This is my life.
And in that moment, even though I had not asked for it nor thought I needed it, I felt reassurance. The knowledge firmly settled, that I belong to Him. My life is His and it is only because of Him that I have any life at all.
He's always there. Everyday, an extraordinary miracle.