Every morning in Uganda I would wake up and read my Bible in the church way back behind all the huts and watch the sun rise through the trees on the border of the African bush. I would listen to the birds singing and watch the mist rise up from the ground and see the little dew drops on the edges of the blades of grass and smell the fresh, clean air and feel the cool breeze that sometimes made me shiver.
The sun rises every morning. Every morning. And the colors and clouds and shadows and patterns are always different, always more beautiful than the last. An unimaginable beauty put on display for us by a Creator who loves us.
Every night the sun goes down and it gets dark and cold and still. And every morning the sun bursts up from its hiding place and warms the earth and brings forth life.
It's something that happens every day and so we sometimes let it happen without noticing it. But it's a simple, daily reminder of His faithfulness... there will always be a dawn.
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