Too bright, too early

Too bright, too early

My father-in-law was right.

Not every time, but very often, when the sun is out bright at 7 am, by 11 am it will be hidden by clouds. 

Too bright, too early, he would say. 

To me, that throws a pall over the enjoyment of the early part of the day, as I look apprehensively towards the western skies, the direction from which our weather often comes. I’d rather enjoy the hours I have unclouded by ... well ... incipient clouds.

I prefer to live in hope and expect the best, than to cynically expect the worst. In spite of the fact that yes, my father-in-law, in this regard, was usually right.

This morning. Case in point. It dawned gloriously and full of promise. Now, at 11.30 am, there remain a couple of patches of blue sky only. 

But, so far, no rain! I am trying to keep my eyes on the bright side.

Why does this daily musing often reflect the British obsession with the weather, I wonder. I guess it’s because it changes so drastically, so frequently, and we’re all just desperate for it to settle down into a good long spell of hot, dry weather. 

A good long spell of hot, dry weather – rare as hen’s teeth here in Scotland. It can happen – but rarely.

My Bible reading this morning focused on Jesus’ words to the father of the girl who was dying. He encouraged him: ‘Don’t be afraid, only believe.’ 

I might believe with all my heart that the weather is going to hold, good and hot, but if the wind shifts no amount of believing will make that happen.

But if I can put all my faith in God, believing in Him with all my heart – well, anything is possible. Fear of what the day may hold (not meaning the frivolity of the weather but more serious matters) will be driven out by the faith that God’s plans are always good, and whatever the day may hold, he loves me and has me covered.

Jesus raised that dad's daughter from the dead.

 

It doesn’t get any brighter than that. And there are no clouds on that horizon.