The sun rises later now. This far west in the central time zone darkness refuses to leave until just before 7 am. And shows up like that annoying early-arriving guest more and more every evening.

The sun’s arc began its winter shift also. Now less directly overhead and more on a path that leans to the south from start to finish. Not long before its entire trip will be visible out my south-facing windows.

You and I are sun people. Not saying you should gravitate to tanning. Or enjoy every waking minute outside.

But God’s gift of the sun anchors our calendars. It energizes our bodies. It feeds our well-being.

As a friend recently wrote me, its rising and setting calm the spirit.

Its peek over the hills throws back the curtains of anticipation on what’s to come. 

The day ahead.

Its slide behind the western ridge pulls down the shades of reflection on what transpired. 

The day past.

Both surrounded by palettes of oranges and yellows intermingled with pinks and reds. 

Both reminding me the same God who paints the seasonal wildflower montages in my fields paints horizon sky murals every morning and evening. 

An Overachiever who woos us with sky magic. 

A magic that creates awe and wonder. That fills the soul with breath. That leads the soul to sing.

“From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” – Psalm 113.3