Early Thursday morning, up way before the sun as I love to do. I’m not a sleep-in-late type and I never was. But there isn’t much to see at 4:30am just staring out the window into the dark. This tea towel of a kitchen curtain was much more interesting than the black. And while I know there are colors out there, right where they were when the sun went down (terra cotta, chartreuse and mustard gold) I can’t see or enjoy them in this dark without the light.
So I lean on my foreknowledge that they exist, seeing them or not, at this moment. The knowledge sustains me until the sun rises and reveals what my mind knew was there. Because darkness doesn’t change what is real and what’s true. For a moment it obscures but has no lasting power over beauty, love, wisdom or truth.
The sneaky cousins of the dark though—they distort what is real right in broad daylight—as their particular speciality lies in fading colors, altering proportions and erasing minute details of the people and things that we love. Darn Shadows! But there in the shade or in the dark, the truth, the real details of an object, an issue, or a person’s character remain untouched and unchanged. The lack of light itself doesn’t alter a thing or negate its truth or existence.
This early morning musing is a simple acknowledgement that faith is put to the test in the dark of night. In the darkest hour. When the sun don’t shine. Faith is believing what I can’t see. When the darkness closes in, when the night falls, when the scene fades to black I will remember, I will recall the truth of what I saw there in the light of day. That there is color, there is beauty. There is peace. There is hope that the sun will come out. There is faith to believe that it is so.