Lord, let us use this daily practice of intention and reflection to know You better and to celebrate all You’ve given us to savor. I woke one morning with the weight of the world on my chest. I hadn’t slept well as it’d stormed much of the night before. The COVID-19 pandemic raged, virtual school was in full swing, and the busy season at work slowed to nothing.
Like nearly everyone in mid-2020, I was afraid, overwhelmed, and lonely. I missed our extended family and friends, missed our school, missed our church. I grieved for what my children were missing of their childhoods. A fresh start seemed like a nice thought, but it was so far out of reach, I dared not consider the idea.
I took a deep breath and sat up, half-smiling as my daughter Caroline bounded into the room to tell me it was morning and she could now get out of her bed. I took her hand and slowly trudged to the living room, considering what the day would hold—likely a copy/paste from the day prior and the one before that—and counting the seconds until that first sip of coffee would be passing my lips. Everything felt hard.
God, did You forget us?
Looking up, I paused. What I saw out the glass doors that morning took my breath away. It wasn’t the first sunrise I’d seen, but it was the first time God had clearly spoken to me through something so very ordinary. As the sliver of bright, beautiful orange crested the edge of the water, just beginning to peek out and illuminate our world, I heard three words deep in my heart.
I didn’t forget.
It was so clear and so poignant I felt my breath catch.