Here it is. My first post. I'm not sure how to introduce myself, nor do I think I'll really need to--most of you probably know me, right? I suppose, then, I'll just dive right into this.
Today I watched the February sunrise. My New Year's Resolution was to watch the sunrise at least once a month. It seemed like such a natural idea. Isn't creativity that way, though? Some of my best/favorite ideas just seem like they have been in my brain all along, just waiting to step up and be known. With sunrises, I just knew it was right. In highschool during early morning marching band practices we used to see some truly brilliant sunrises out on the field. It thrilled me so deeply. When I watch the sun rise I feel child-like and innocent. It makes me want to stomp my feet and throw up my hands in worship. Sunrises are so pure and fresh--I find so much clarity in them. God is close.
February:
For the month of January, I chose to watch the sunrise on my drive from Dallas back to College Station. First semester had some rough patches. Other than many of those challenges every freshman faces, some adjustments and hurdles came up and I had to rely on the Lord to get me through. Christmas break was so refreshing, though. I took time to be away from everything and sort out so many thoughts and changes. It was a really wonderful time. So once I made my resolution and when it was time to head back to school, I saw my first sunrise of the year as a very symbolic one. I am very much in between phases of my life. In a year, every horizon has seemed to change (in mostly wonderful ways). And so I thought it very appropriate to watch my January sunrise in between the places I live. Also, I viewed the sunrise on my way back as a fresh start to the semester. In the spirit of optimism, I wanted to be excited and brave as I headed back to school, and start off the semester worshipping my Savior (and I truly view my resolution as a sort of dedication to unique monthly worship).
"What is this feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing--it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies." --Jack Kerouac, On The Road
I hope to share a sunrise with you. Maybe March?
Love always,
Sarah
