“When it was daylight . . .” One of our sons, who is a ”morning person” used to awaken us with cheerful cry from his room, “It is morning time.” Some of us were glad to hear his three year old voice. Others, not so much. Every morning, God gives new mercies as the sun rises. Scientific studies encourage us to let the light of the sun be the first light of our day. The idea is that the presence of the suns early rays resets our circadian rhythms. Specifically, we need to see the sun’s light before we immerse ourselves in the light of our phones and computers.
When the sun rose, the officials sent word to release Paul and Silas. The jailer, who had found peace in Jesus, urged them to “Go in peace.” But Paul insisted that the magistrates themselves come and escort him and Silas out. News of the apostles’ Roman citizenship caused some consternation. How does one admit such a grave error. “There, there . . .” and shoulder pats seems inadequate. Paul and Silas left after encouraging the brothers and sisters who were meeting in Lydia’s home.
“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love . . .for I have put my trust in you,” prayed the Psalmist (Psalm 143:8). People who pray at midnight may well find God’s unfailing love in the rising of the sun. In our recent power outage, when the sun’s light was the only light in our home, I listened to a song by Lauren Daigle. She sang to my soul, “You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. The sun will keep on rising in that old familiar way. And you’re going to be ok.”
Whatever our trauma today, we know this for sure: the sun will still rise, even if the clouds block our view. Better still, on that first Easter Sunday, early in the morning, the crucified Son of God rose from the grave. Because he lives, we can face tomorrow. Because he lives, all fear is gone. We know he holds the future, and life is worth the living, just because he lives.
