Standing Upright

There is darkness and there is light, it’s not a mystery that the sun comes up each day; every morning I find myself upright, I am grateful.  I do not know all the mathematical and engineering factors involved, I just know that in the morning the sun will rise.  In the evening the sun will set and I will eventually need to sleep; and, knowing if I am to find myself upright some hours later, that I should be grateful.  One day follows another in pretty much the same fashion, light then darkness and light again.

Much has been written about both the light and the darkness; generally speaking the former is good and the latter evil.  There once was a man from Uz, who experienced a different kind of darkness, the kind where there seems to be no answers, only questions and you can hear nothing but the deafening roar of silence.  It is here in this place, a place so dark the onyx and the crystal have no shape; but in the distance, perhaps a mile or so out, a flaming wick can be seen. Here, right here, this is the place that God most clearly speaks to us.

We might say to God as the man from Uz once said: “I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted.  You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge?’  Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.  You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’  My ears had heard of you but now my eyes see you.  Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes”.

What you hear in this place transcends all reason; what you hear is a calling to worship, no logical explanations are given.  There is a shuttering in the soul when thoughts arise to return to this dark place, there is equally a longing to be back, listening.  When the sun rises early in the morning, arise and listen; sometimes, in the waning hours of the darkness just before the first splinters of sunlight appear, you can hear the echoes of words about questions for each of us to answer.

Tomorrow night is Christmas Eve, I will stay up late and dress the tree with presents the little ones hope will appear by morning; then I will sleep, but only a short while.  I will arise early before the house awakens, hoping, for a glimpse, and just a whisper from the child born this day, who is both our redeemer and our hope.  Then, I will be grateful to be standing upright?  Ain’t it so.

 

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