Apparently the sunrise this past Tuesday was spectacular.  I know, because a friend posted this picture of it on Facebook.  I’m not an early riser, so unfortunately I don’t have many sunrises to compare it to.

The sad thing about this particular morning, however, was that I actually happened to be awake.  I even noticed when my bedroom shades became illumined by an unusually bright orange hue.  But I still missed the sunrise.  How?

Because I didn’t get out of bed, simply pull back the curtains, and look.

This got me thinking.  How many other brilliant sunrises have I slept through?  What else have I missed because I was too lazy to get up?  If God wanted to reveal something of Himself to me, would I see it?  Or would I be content to just doze in the comfort of my spiritual bed, oblivious to something magnificent taking place right outside my window?

Wake up.  Get up.  Look up.  This is what I felt the Lord was saying to me.  It sounded a lot like what He’s been saying for centuries…

“Get out of bed, Jerusalem!  Wake up.  Put your face in the sunlight.
   God’s bright glory has risen for you.
The whole earth is wrapped in darkness,
   all people sunk in deep darkness,
But God rises on you,
   his sunrise glory breaks over you…

Look up! Look around!”  (Isaiah 60:1-2, 4a The Message)

I want to be awake and alert to what He is doing.  I don’t want to be so busy standing in line to buy popcorn that I miss the show!  And what a shame it would be to nod off in the darkened theater just when the plot starts to get exciting!

“But make sure that you don’t get so absorbed and exhausted in taking care of all your day-by-day obligations that you lose track of the time and doze off, oblivious to God.  The night is about over, dawn is about to break.  Be up and awake to what God is doing!” (Romans 13:11 The Message)

A few nights ago, a full bladder woke me up in the wee hours (no pun intended!) of the morning.  As I headed back to bed, I heard an owl call just outside my window.  The warmth underneath my covers also beckoned me.

But this time I turned, lifted the corner of the window shade and actually looked.  Darkness hid the owl from view as I scanned the roofline.  But I stood at the window for a few moments and enjoyed the soothing sound of his calls, pausing to worship his and my Creator, before climbing back into bed.

(Photo by Karen Edwards)