Sunset
The other night, Cathy and I went out to the lakeshore for an evening stroll, and we were there as the sun began to set. Just as we were heading back to our car, I decided to turn back toward the west, and saw that the sun would quickly disappear. We walked to the end of the sidewalk, where I took some pictures, and then, with others who were there for the same reason, we watched in hushed awe as the sun quickly slid behind the horizon. When it was gone, there was almost a collective sigh, and then most everyone got up and began the quiet walk back to their vehicles.
What is it about a sunset that touches our hearts, that draws people daily to the lakeshore, to the mountainside, to the back yard to watch as this ball of light slowly slips down into hiding? There is, undoubtedly, something beautiful about the whole thing, but I wonder if it isn't more than that. Perhaps there is something the ancients understood that we still sense but have neglected.
In the Scriptures, in the book of Genesis, you can't help but notice the creation rhythm. God creates something, and then we're told, "there was evening, and there was morning." The Jews understood what was being said there: the day beings with evening. The day begins with sunset. The day begins with the rest of the evening. We see it the other way: we see the day starting with the fast pace of the morning. But, for the Hebrews, the day begins with family gathering, tales of the day being told, and rest, sweet nourishing rest. Once rest has happened, you're able to take on the challenges of the next morning.
Do you see the difference? When we treat rest as something to "make up for the day just past," we can never actually catch up—spiritually, emotionally, or even really physically. But when rest and time with family is meant to prepare our souls for the day to come, to help us put the day just done behind us...well, that does something to us. The evening is meant to fill us, rest us, give us energy for all the days to come. The sunset brings a conclusion to the day. Now, once the sun is gone, we can start over...with rest.
When the sun goes down, perhaps that's meant to be a reminder to leave everything of the day before behind, to lay it down and begin again. Rest. Fellowship. Preparation. Sunset reminds us that, whatever has happened in the previous day, it's done and it's past. And God is giving us another chance to do it right tomorrow.
Thanks for sunsets, God. May they remind us always not of endings but of new beginnings.
What is it about a sunset that touches our hearts, that draws people daily to the lakeshore, to the mountainside, to the back yard to watch as this ball of light slowly slips down into hiding? There is, undoubtedly, something beautiful about the whole thing, but I wonder if it isn't more than that. Perhaps there is something the ancients understood that we still sense but have neglected.
In the Scriptures, in the book of Genesis, you can't help but notice the creation rhythm. God creates something, and then we're told, "there was evening, and there was morning." The Jews understood what was being said there: the day beings with evening. The day begins with sunset. The day begins with the rest of the evening. We see it the other way: we see the day starting with the fast pace of the morning. But, for the Hebrews, the day begins with family gathering, tales of the day being told, and rest, sweet nourishing rest. Once rest has happened, you're able to take on the challenges of the next morning.
Do you see the difference? When we treat rest as something to "make up for the day just past," we can never actually catch up—spiritually, emotionally, or even really physically. But when rest and time with family is meant to prepare our souls for the day to come, to help us put the day just done behind us...well, that does something to us. The evening is meant to fill us, rest us, give us energy for all the days to come. The sunset brings a conclusion to the day. Now, once the sun is gone, we can start over...with rest.
When the sun goes down, perhaps that's meant to be a reminder to leave everything of the day before behind, to lay it down and begin again. Rest. Fellowship. Preparation. Sunset reminds us that, whatever has happened in the previous day, it's done and it's past. And God is giving us another chance to do it right tomorrow.
Thanks for sunsets, God. May they remind us always not of endings but of new beginnings.
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