On running late into a beautiful sunrise
I had slept in.
You know how that goes, especially when the day’s agenda before you is ambitious and arduous, not the kind of day that needs a tardy start.
I hate to have to send an “I’m-running-late” text. “Be in ASAP.”
Oh, to be human, and double oh to be an adult, not something I always care to be, I thought to myself, suddenly longing for childhood days when a mother could write a “Please excuse Janice” note or a teacher could pen a hall pass on my behalf.
So I was in a sour mood driving along to work, in a pity-party, woe-is-me sort of frame of mind wondering how the world would revolve without my being on time, great Earth and good grief, Charlie Brown!
How am I going to get everything done? How will I compensate? Pressure, pressure, pressure. Whaaaaa!
But the later start brought a sweet reward, oddly enough, something I would have missed had I paid prompt attention to the alarm clock and been punctual.
The sun was coming up.
The sky was welcoming its arrival.
The remnants of night were stepping aside.
It was not lost on me.
It was a new day — and a new day brings hope and possibilities, regardless of my starting time.
It occurred to me that I was exactly where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to be — enjoying this moment.
I was reminded anew of how some sights are ones I never get tired of, the sunrise being one of them. The evening sky, too.
Each one is new. Each one is different. Each one is part of a new museum-worthy exhibit, courtesy of our creator, the master artist.
Just when you think it can’t be any prettier, any more breath-taking, you discover that you’re wrong.
There’s another gorgeous sunrise in your future.
It’s kind of like your Christmas tree. You put it up, adorn it with the lights, ornaments and garland and then step away to admire it, thinking it’s the best tree ever, surely not one to be topped.
Then another Christmas rolls around and another, and the trees are unique and beautiful in their own way, even though you’re convinced one year’s tree can’t possibly rival the next one.
So, too, the morning sky.
And how beautiful it is from the newsroom window when the sky lights up behind St. Peter Church in downtown Steubenville, the cross there as a reminder of beauty as well, the beauty of God’s love for us.
I don’t know where your heart is this Easter morning or if you believe the simple message of salvation, but I hope you do.
I choose to believe that I am a sinner saved by grace and that God’s love and mercy are for all of us, even though we’re not deserving.
That recent drive into work when I got to see yet another beautiful work of art in the rising sun reassured me that we’re never too late for God’s love and forgiveness.
And there’s no time like the present to embrace it and be thankful for it.
(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)