Today I got up early, and sat before my open bedroom window and watched the sun rise up above the hills and trees. Its light was softly glowing, long before it actually could be seen, and then suddenly, it burst forth upon the mountain tops, down into the valleys and into my window to shine across the room in such a radiant way that one could not help but feel the warmth shine right into the deepest parts of the heart.
It reminded me of another kind of sunrise: the sunrise that broke through one of the darkest and deepest of moments of my life. The sunrise that came slowly at first, so much slow that I could hardly dare to hope it would ever really come, and then, as if in time with a great unknown orchestra, it broke forth, sending it's bright and warming rays to the farthest corners of my heart. It did not take all the pain away, no, for pain is not a part of darkness, but the darkness, the deep black that blinded my eyes from seeing beyond the moment, was gone, and as I sat, quietly thinking of the road that I had travelled in the dark, I realized that it is true. Had it not been for the darkness, I could never have rejoiced as I do now in the breaking forth of the sunrise. Had there not been moments when by faith, I held on to what I knew was there but could not see, the sunrise would be but common place and ordinary. It was then that I realized that “We can only appreciate the miracle of a sunrise if we have waited in the darkness” (Unknown)
God has promised that every dark night has an end. There will be a sunrise, a glorious, beautiful sunrise someday. It might seem like the night will never end. Perhaps you'll only see the glorious dawning in the place where He makes all things beautiful, all wrongs right, but the morning will come. The darkest is before the dawn. Just hold on a little longer, because the morning is coming, and the sunrise will be worth it all.
- by Chantel Harding
(From the ylcf blog) http://blog.ylcf.org/2008/08/miracle-of-sunrise.html
