Sunrise In The East

Sunrise In The East

I love waking up on Romaian soil.  It's five am and I'm awaken by a timid breeze coming in through the wide open window.  It's still dark outside, but something or maybe someone compels me to get out of bed.  I step out onto the balcony and greedily fill my lungs with the night air.  Everything is still and quiet except for the cry of a rooster ready to start the day way sooner than anyone else is willing to face it.  In the distance, the faint bark of a dog reminds me of my childhood.  My carefree childhood, when I just didn't know.  O, so many things that I didn't know.  Ignorance is bliss indeed.  The dog keeps barking soothingly.  How can the bark of a dog be so comforting?

The city seems to be holding its collective breath before bursting out with life.  Life, so precious, so fragile, so determined to go on despite the attempts to crush it at every step, around every corner.  The dog continues to bark softly but persistently.  Makes me think of faithfulness.  Yap, faithfulness.  This dog knows how to be faithful to the one who feeds him.  I reflect on my own fathfulness to God, and I think it's lacking.

I've been standing here for a while, and I notice that the city is starting to come awake.  My mind is still idle.  I watch my thoughts lazily laying on a swing, swishing gently through the cool morning air in slow motion.  My mind starts raising up to its Maker.  He seems so much closer early in the morning when all sleeps.  Effortlessly, hand in hand, my heart and my prayer fallow in the footsteps of my thoughts, right before the throne of mercy, and ... no surprise, my Father's been waiting for me.

Suddenly the dog starts barking so loudly that it wakes me from my reverie.  Same dog whos barking gave me such  sense of peace earlier, pulls me right out of my meeting with my Father.  Thanks a lot doggy.  I hope you don't get to chase any cats today.  I'll come back later, I whisper to my Father, my back already half turned to Him.

The sun is plying pick-a-boo beyound the horizon.  Ready or not, here I come, he seems to announce to the still sleeping world.  A new bright, lively day has broken.  My heart's rhithm matches the flutter of a bee's wings circling the flower pot on the ledge.  We both are definitley thankful.  She for the ready breakfast, and I for the gift of another day.  What shall I do with it, I wonder as if it was mine?  I don't need to think about it though.  I give it to you Father, I whisper in a hurry, and before the dog gets to utter another excited bark ... my day is in good hans.  I throw a last glance towards the brilliant ball of fire, and a promise goes up with it: I'll be back Father, I whisper with tenderness.  He just shakes his head smiling.  I'll be waiting.