Where Did You Find God Today?

The chill of a predawn ocean breeze swept across the sand as I made my way over the dunes and onto the South Carolina beach last week. The only sound—the rhythmic rippling of gentle waves breaking along the shoreline.

Alone in the darkness, dwarfed, and awed by the anticipated majesty of this morning concert ready to fill the heavens with God’s created light, I waited. But for the moment the clouds, the sand, and the ocean were smoky gray.

Dull. Flat. Lifeless.

I snapped the first photo.

A tinge of blue washed across the expanse above my head, scattering the remnants of darkness like pulled strands of cotton candy.

Gray clouds soaked up the coming lights of heaven and reflected the soon-to-be seen splendor of the sun’s march to the line between sea and sky. Like turning up the rheostat of a chandelier from dimmer to lighter and brighter, the…