The dark sky lightens to pale pink before my eyes as the sun hints at its rising, while the remnant of the night’s orange moon begins to disappear. The cool, crisp air and the cold brick beneath my feet announce fall, as do the orange and yellow leaves drifting to the ground. The chirping and singing of nearby birds is music to my ears, contrasting the early-morning quiet. A thin veil of fog hovering above tree tops partially disguises the valley before me.
And with morning, everything that seemed old and worn out in the evening feels new again. What my senses took for granted yesterday, they behold afresh in these early hours.
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:21-23 NASB)
