By WALLYCE TODD
Today, I saw the pink of the sunrise over the mountains that surround Los Angeles. In fact, IÕve seen several sunrises in the past week, and thatÕs a rarity for me. As an avowed night owl, I relish the evening hours and have a long-standing appreciation for allowing the morning to wake without me.
This summer, at the beginning of my sojourn from the east coast to its western counterpart, I purchased a coffee mug that said ÒAttention Morning People: Be Perky at your own Peril.Ó As lively and loquacious as I can be during most parts of the day and on into the night, IÕm decidedly more taciturn in the wee hours of the morning.
ItÕs with all honesty that IÕve said any future children of mine might be morning orphans, unless their father is one of those rooster-like early birds. We shall seeÉ However, alterations in my life may be coming with the autumn air here in L.A.
ThereÕs an increasing chance I could be changing my anti-early-a.m. tune if I continue to experience a few more morning moments like those IÕve had recently. IÕll explain why later. But, for now, letÕs talk about the first sunrise I saw in City of Angels.
It was a gorgeous orange-red ball of light rising up midst the painted horizon hanging over the cityÕs skyscrapers and huge sprawl. I experienced it as I drove through the Hollywood Hills to get to a film project where I would volunteer. The film was being coordinated in part by a new friend from Bible Study whose husband is an Oscar-nominated director. (He directed a short movie called ÒMost,Ó which was filmed in the Czech language, the sister to the language in my beloved Slovakia.)
As I drove up the curvy Mulholland Drive -- named for the man who, in the 1920Õs, built an aqueduct in L.A, allowing the city to become the desert metropolis it is now -- the sun rose over the city, giving it a temporary artistic softness. This sensory experience would dissipate as the jewel colors of the sky became a solid blue and white, but I was still benefited by the perspective that only an early morning event could bring.
L.A. is often a harsh, ugly place; yet, thereÕs beauty to be found in so many unexpected places. I was grateful to be able to take this particular mental pictureÉ it was even effectively captured in my brain cells before IÕd had my first cup of caffeine, a feat in itself. ItÕs a snapshot in my mind that will stay affixed within, methinks.
Another sunrise I encountered was this morning, as I was blessed by my third Òsacred spaceÓ time this week. Last Sunday, I met Sabina, a caring, creative woman at church, whoÕs also in a wheelchair. She gave a dozen or so new members a personally prepared and prayed over collection of items housed in a wooden box she had painted and decorated.
When I commented on how much I appreciated her attention to detail, she offered me one that ÒhappenedÓ to be extra. I just love those kind of happenings. ItÕs like God smiles and sends me a hug from heaven.
Even though IÕm in seminary now, I still find it easy to pray in the bed, on the go, and in the midst of many other things. God doesnÕt shun those kinds of conversations, He welcomes them; but, still, thereÕs something heart delicious that occurs when we spend one-on-one time with Elohim, our Creator.
I think GodÕs Word is the love letter He yearns for us to open and explore on a regular basis; yet my own life (and yours?) is too often one that leaves the life lessons of the Greatest Story on Earth sitting on the shelf.
Enter in SabinaÕs gift Ð an opportunity for intimacy, painted in the gold of sunshine and holding in its depth a matching or coordinated candlestick, notepad, pen, mini Òaltar cloth,Ó and a cross. For me, these items have combined to create the beginning of something beautiful.
Each morning this week, I have allowed myself to open the treasures found, not just in the box, but in the Book. Ah, what a sweet way to start the dayÉ
IÕm not ready to make any declarations. Mornings will not be the only times I choose to greet and meet with my Maker. I sincerely believe space for the sacred can be created at any time and in virtually any set of circumstances.
Currently, my own space is found in the San Fernando Valley of L.A. -- on a pigeon-poop-bespeckled balcony outside my bedroom, I place a rug down, light the candlewick, and look beyond my immediate surroundings. For us all, sacred space could be found at dawn, during the day, or late at night when the stars are out.
However, I must acknowledge that my own week has run more smoothly and my tension has seemed less rough on the days when IÕve awoken earlierÉ and then committed to spend time with the Lover of my life.
A peace begins to permeate as a candle flickers in its holder, and a small cross reminds me of the priceless gift that will always be worth waking up for - on earth and in eternity.
May the Son rise in your soulÉ
*Wallyce Todd was born and reared in Columbus County and now lives in Los Angeles, Ca. SpiritSong is an occasional column sheÕs written for several years for The News Reporter. In coming months, look for From L.A. with Love, a new occasional column to be written by Wallyce.
