I don’t know how it works in flat country, but where I live, you can see the sun coming before it arrives.
There are hints and clues that the sun will come up.
The sky changes color – ever so subtly and then ever so confidently.
The darkness gives way to the light, but not in one amazing, dramatic before-and-after moment.
I looked out our front window this morning, coffee mug in hand, and observed the sky.
Some small puffy clouds hung low over the horizon, reflecting an eastern highlight, offering an early clue that day was dawning.
As I watched, my thoughts were elsewhere.
I was thinking of my Mom, who is working hard to rehab a broken hip.
It’s been just under a week since the break and the surgery.
She is already making good progress, but I know she wants the recovery to move more quickly.
There is comfort in the lesson of the morning sky.
It won’t be one amazing, dramatic before-and-after moment when my Mom’s mobility gets back to normal.
There will be hints and clues that her hip is healing and her mobility is returning.
She will listen to the therapists and move her feet – ever so subtly and then ever so confidently.
She will get stronger and stronger.
Just like the morning sun.
Once the sun is up, the day’s routines run their course.
It won’t be all at once, but soon Mom will be off and running.