I’m so grateful for the sun beating down on me. It’s been such a consistent presence over last 15 months: its rising and setting, its warmth on our skin, its absence which we feel more acutely as our clothes don’t dry, our batteries don’t charge, our souls aren’t lifted. Our itinerary has sought the presence of the sun, like a sunflower arching itself in the course of the day to achieve optimal exposure. Our bodies rise and set with the cues of the sun. Where we sit to do work and school is oriented to the sun, whether needing its warmth or needing solace under the shade. It’s as much a part of our functioning as the coffee we drink, the clothes on our body, the food in our bellies.

Our lives are chaotic — our circumstances, emotions, relationships, responsibilities, and satisfaction are all over the place. As I have desired constancy over the years, I have pursued my God, my Maker, who authors and manages all my inconsistencies to great, steady, reliable purpose. But alongside that presence, I see the sun — not as a substitute or stand in, but as a physical representation, visual manifestation, a tangible reminder of that consistency. It promises to remain steady and reliable as we work and play, laugh and cry, sleep or wake, notice it or not, understand or flounder in uncertainty. As my feelings wax and wane, as my desires shift, and as the external factors around me are altered, the reliable presence of that sun assures me simply in its unavoidable presence. It may tuck behind clouds, it may play and dance with the moon. It may go to bed earlier. But it will rise and it will set. It will provide. We will know our need through it.

To think of a world in which I am less aware, less in tuned with its presence makes me feel unsteady. It’s so vital and critical to all of us, yet so often we operate without acknowledgement of that majesty. I have this opportunity not to simply benefit from the sun (that will happen no matter what), but to acknowledge, be grateful, and bask in its gifts by being more aware of it. I do not want to be too distracted; more swept too and fro by the unreliable change around me. So, for now, let the moon, the stars, the wind, and the weather continue to dazzle me as we chart and monitor them, watch them change, see them shift. But let us bow down to the sun for its goodness and for the time and space to be brought to our knees by its gifts and consistency and reliability of goodness.