Morning song.

This morning I was awakened at 5am by birds outside my open window.

My instinct was to roll over and rest some more, so I did. Except I couldn't fall asleep. The harder I tried to drift back to dreaming, the more birds added to the chorus, and the louder they became. My newly-woken mind began to critique why birds have to start their song so early... For goodness sake, it was still dark out! But the sound continued and increasingly more birds added their unique harmonies.

So I gave in. I would like use romanticized language here and say that the birds beckoned me outdoors to the dawn, but I'm afraid due to the hour, it was more in the form of reluctance to be dragged out of bed.

As I reached the doors of our back porch, I saw the deep violet tone of the sky with a hint of colour at the horizon. No turning back now. So I wrapped myself in a blanket and watched the sun creep it's way into the day. The backyard was so still. So entranced by the dawn. Everything was frozen in time except for the continual change of colours and ever growing light of the sky. And the birds were still singing.

As I sat bundled in the patio chair, I think I learned something this morning. The birds do this same routine every single day (I just usually prefer to sleep through it). They do it in Canada, and they do it in Haiti, and they do it all over the world. The greet the morning with singing. And they don't just wait for the light. They sing in the dark. They make music even before they see the sun.

It's something that I think I need to realize in my life. Often, I only sing or praise the Lord when the sun is shining on me. In the darkness I easily lose my gumption to see signs of the morning, and I would rather sleep and be waken when it's over.

And yet if I would only take a lesson from the birds, to wait faithfully for the Lord. If I would praise Him simply for who He is and not because of my external circumstances. The Bible promises if I do press onto to know Him, He will appear, just as the sun rises (Hosea 6:3). I hope you can be encouraged by the birds today, just as I was. In the darkest disappointments of my life, I want to worship and believe that hope will rise. And I want to sing about it.