Morning Has Broken

Most likely you're thinking of the song Cat Stevens recorded about now. It wasn't until I had children that I learned the song was originally a poem written by Eleanor Fargeon. She was a prolific writer of verse, and I remember reading in one of her compilations her lighthearted lament at not being a true poet, but simply a writer of children's verse. She viewed herself as not quite having the talent for which she yearned.

It is a common lament, to regret not reaching one's potential or experiencing one's dreams.  It is the way of the world. We go about life knowing we will not do or be all that we wanted or hoped.  In the middle of such ordinariness, Easter comes upon us, and I'm so appreciative of Jesus and how he revealed himself after the resurrection amidst the ordinariness of life. He met Mary in the garden, as she went about a task which was common in that society, the anointing of the dead. He met two disciples returning home from Jerusalem after Passover. Another ordinary time and ordinary task, along with a lot of confusion about what had happened to Jesus. They were walking and talking and Jesus walked and talked with them. He stood on the shore as a group fishermen, his friends, were trying to catch some fish and failing. In fact they had given up. He give instructions as to how to catch a boatload of fish and proceeded to make them breakfast. Every time, it was a chance for a new beginning, a new life. Morning had broken. The eighth day.

This year as we celebrate Easter, I want to remember this especially, that God calls us to be faithful, not fantastic. He accepts our everyday faithfulness, walks with us and will one day clothe us in splendor as we see him in glory. I want to remember a simple song which praises God our creator and gives us a glimpse of the new heavens and new earth, written by a woman who loved God enough to express it in a children's verse.