The sky breaks with a new dawn and thus begins – fresh – a new day. Colour upon colour fill the sky in hopeful abandon, leaving behind the darkness; in the wonder of being paint on a Creator’s brush; an exhale of breath; a smear of The Artist’s Hands. How wonderful (are) His works; How radiant are His thoughts; How heavenly are His plans. The heavens declare such glory; the painted skies proclaiming His handiwork. His fingerprints everywhere; His masterpiece always unveiled.
I sit, with a new year ahead. The daunting tasks of days unread; the uncertainty of plans I hold and yet, with vision, do behold: Here is He who rides on the dawn; the One for Whom the tempest stalls; the Name of all, beholding all. It is His – all His. It always was. The newness of a new year, not yet lived and yet often feared. Today, I will live anew; in the wonder and grace of what is True.
For I hold Him – who is above all – above all. The year ahead, in His hands; in His Book, my days spent; written in perfect precision. He knows both End and the Beginning. The world around assumes God is not, and yet how else can one explain such a glorious start.
No textbook can tell me; no teacher prevails, for the One I call Teacher has first torn the veil. First, He was. Then, He was with me. Then He sought me, though I so sick in sin and selfishness, could not see for being trapped in darkness. But He lifted my head up, up to the Tree on which He bled, rising again to breathe anew; not ending the story I had ripped apart in my madness; but placing a comma where there should have been a full stop.
He said, ‘it is finished’ and it echoed ‘let there be light’. Just as darkness, thick and black had once birthed a blinding brilliance; too encapsulating. Too see as sight was restored. The Son of God, truly this was. Truly, this is.
His light shines as bright today. As Christ took every scarred sin and pain, upon Himself to write me free. Free, for today, and tomorrow and eternity. For the year ahead; always with me. Immanuel in every song and step and breath I breathe. For how can I live without the One who lives in me?
Because of His love, I am loved. Because of His death, I am free. Today is new; fresh, with no mistakes. And I will rise and walk on, with my Saviour, amidst the waves. For no tremulous tempest will un-anchor this heart; not when He who set the beat in motion, was there at the start.
His love is unfailing. Let the dawn bring such words. His glory, unending; resounding and heard. His mercy abounding, like tide after tide. His faithfulness, limitless; never leaving my side. His perfection, stupendous, and His beauty, unmasked. This is He who paints the dawn; unequally tasked with holding my heart for this newness; the beginning He wrote before life was to start.
The sky breaks with a new dawn and thus begins – fresh – a new day. His mercies new, to never fail. Ahead, the year belongs to Him. He breathes anew into such a dawn; He takes my hand, and leads me on.