A year vastly different can make things not so far away, feel distant. A pandemic can cause promises to feel paused past pursuit. Days which rub up against each other can bear the raw spot of all seeming the same and a “will always be” settles in to where “what is yet to come” should reside.
Sixteen months behind me is a trip to Antartica, where I rediscovered days and the delight within them. There, meditations were met that could not be left on ice. Breath came and imprinted a heart tattoo and a hope held high. No more lost days.
Even so, some slip by. The same kinda different can darken days and deceive a heart to forget lingering light. Without light, it can feel as if there is nothing beyond the border of our own skin.
Yet there is always something here to remind, and upon remembrance, the incandescent truth that we are not squeaky spheres or creaking cogs in a system, but His universes, each a universe spun and spoken by the God of all things great, each thing good.
Woven into first wondrous words of our story, is a phrase wahayah, meaning “there came to be.” The cadence of creation carries this phrase to each day.
The day initiating all days was preceded by a darkness that dominated everything until constituted by God’s glorious light everywhere. The days that followed were granted the same glory.
There was a gathering darkness. There came to be a dawning. Light came running, beaming brighter along the way. Light comes running to save each day.
He gathers darkness. He gives light. He gathers the dimness with torch and flame, that we might glean the glorious.
Hidden in darkness until dawn’s display, is what is meant to be. For the genesis of each day often describes the coming, not of the universe we are of, but a world markedly different from the one yet to be. We here are the exodus into what could come.
The need for dawn or boqer, which is morning, the break of day. The breaking open of day. Boqer found full means, “the rest and joy that accompanies light as it completes darkness.”
Light doesn’t displace darkness, but draws destiny to it, to reveal the yet to be, so each day might be fully found, deeply discovered.
Dimness isn’t a component, but a catalyst of days. It separates each day while light inaugurates every one.
Darkness embraces the stars and releases the power for us to see the beauty ahead. These threads are the rope and anchor of hope. There is more that is worth the search just as we’ve been worth the find.
There was once a world only lit by brilliant diamonds upon velvet sky and candlelight on tender tables. There is no lesser light that can glean glory. Ours must come with His. To each day. For each day’s discovery.
There is a design in each day, sown in destiny. The first seven days of the world, the real world held vulnerability and light, vastness and victory, soil and seed, recognition and remembrance, boundary and breadth, image and imagination, rest and contentment.
What yet remains, the remains of the days, is beyond comprehension and cosmos. If we each delve deep, we may just uncover it all!