I began working at my computer long before dawn. The window next to me faces west, its view stretching across a valley toward the rugged San Gabriel mountains beyond. As the sun rises, it first touches the tops of the deciduous oaks around our little cabin, turning their autumn hued leaves an even more brilliant shade of gold. Minute by minute, the sunlight slides down the oaks and nearby stands of pines, illuminating the valley beyond, and bringing to life the dawn-gray peaks of the San Gabriels.

Mornings have always been my favorite time of the day. New start. New mercies. New hopes. New beginnings. New light cast upon the night shadows that sometimes invade the soul. Being a woman of a “certain age” I well remember the Beatles’ Here Comes the Sun. The lyrics never did much for me, but the idea of the sun’s arrival after a long cold spell does resonate. Of course, now that I’ve thought of it, the melody will attempt to invade my brain throughout the day, probably along with such memorable lyrics as “Here comes the sun, doo da doo doo, Here comes the sun, and I say it’s all right…”

Lamentations 3:22 comes to me and I am blessed: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Great is Your Faithfulness. “Yes!” my heart shouts. (Well, it would if it could.) The melody and lyrics of that beautiful hymn fill soul. I’m just glad there’s not a doo da doo doo to be found among the lyrics.