Sunrise

I was abruptly awakened this morning out of my deep, warm, cozy sleep by the sound of Hubs' alarm. I reached for my phone, looked at the time, rolled over, and in my sleepy, raspy, 3-octaves-too-low morning voice said, "Why is your alarm going off at 5:45 in the morning?!"

Hubs (surprisingly wide-awake sounding for 5:45 in the morning) replied, "I thought we could get up now, bundle up, and walk down to the lake so you can take pictures of the sunrise."

He had me at "pictures". Or "sunrise". Or both.

We have been talking for at least the last two weeks about walking down to the lakefront so I can snap some photos of ice-covered Lake Michigan in all it's frozen beauty. It had been decided that we would finally do that today at some point, but sometime between last night and 5:45 this morning, Hubs had made plans for us to go just as the sun was coming up. He's genius like that. 

We layered and layered and layered our clothes (did I mention it was 12 degrees out this morning?) and looking like Randy Parker from "A Christmas Story" when he can't put his arms down, we headed out into the brisk, dimly lit Chicago morning.

By the time we reached the beach, the sun's light was just barely starting to brighten the horizon where water and sky meet. And it was already beautiful.

The lofty buildings and usually busy streets of the city sat strangely still and quiet, majestically and peacefully gazing out over the water and the slowly brightening sky.

We trudged through the ice and snow that buried the usually sandy beach.

Really, I guess you could say ice covered more than just the sand.

Before we knew it, the sun began to peek its sleepy head over the top of the blue-gray clouds.

The whole city...sky...water...ice...waited in anticipation for the start of a brand new day.

And suddenly, God dipped a paintbrush in His vivid yellows and oranges, pinks and reds, and splashed the sun on His canvas sky, dripping the warmth of color and light and unparalleled beauty over the dark clouds into the frozen water below.

We quietly beheld the gloriousness of the Father's creation. Well, we and a handful of other early-risers who had the same idea.

The rising sun cast its glow over the crackling ice and frigid waters.

Chicago (and Hubs) stood proud and strong in the light of this dazzling morning.

With our noses frozen and our cup of coffee empty, we took in one last look at lake and sky and made our way toward home. I might be so over winter, but this morning's adventure reminded me once again of the beauty of creation (even in the bleakness of winter). A masterpiece that God shares with us just because He loves us. I'm so thankful for that. And for a husband that woke me up at 5:45 for an experience I won't ever forget. 

The Quilt

I love the church.

Not a local church building or even my church here in the city (although I do love my church here in the city). No, I mean the church. The universal body of believers. The people on this earth that make up the family of God. Those of us who have been adopted as sons and daughters.

I love that the invisible church spans miles. As Christians, we have brothers and sisters in the next town, state, country, and across the oceans. The God that I worship here in America is being worshipped by other fellow heirs with Christ all over the world! It's fascinating really. But you know what I find most lovely about the church? It's made up of imperfect people. 

Hear me out. 

As humans, we are fallible. We are messed up, sinful creatures. Apart from Christ, we are nothing. But that's where it gets beautiful. When we trust Jesus as our Savior, the atoning work of Christ on the cross covers our sins. So the Father has now taken those of us who were sinners and has turned us into saints. Taken our sadness and turned it into joy. Healed our wounds and set us free. Do we still sin? Yes. Do we still get sad? Of course. Do we still hurt? Sometimes we will. Is life sunshine and butterflies? Not always. Will people--even brothers and sisters in Christ--wrong us and make us angry? You betcha. Why? Because they aren't perfect. And neither are we. Until we reach heaven's gates, that's just how it's gonna be. But God takes all of us imperfect saints and knits us together like a mismatched patchwork quilt, united in Christ. And it's beautiful. That's His church.  

His church that is made to worship Him.

His church that is equipped, through the gifts of His Spirit, to build each other up.

His church that He uses to advance His kingdom. 

We are that invisible church. Deeply loved and known by Him. All united together as Christ's Bride. And we eagerly wait for the day He calls us home.

It doesn't get more beautiful than that.