This time of year, it’s a little easier to experience the magic of the sun creeping over the horizon. Unlike the summer sunrise at 4:45 am, now the splendor begins around 6:15 am and unfolds over the course of 30-minutes. One cloudy morning, I took this time lapse video over the course of 20 minutes.

A recent guest and I were reflecting on how clouds are necessary for the full dayspring colors to be on display. Without the cloak of the cloud bank, the arising day is far more subtle. Check out the racing clouds in this second video. Sometimes when I check the weather, a cloudy forecast provokes feelings of disappointment. The glory of a cloudy sunrise has given me a new and deeper appreciation for cloudy days.

And yet sometimes, clouds are just dark. And heavy. And don’t lift. Despite glimmers of hope, the light never actually peeks through. The picture below was taken on a day where we never actually saw the sun. The predawn hint of sunlight was quickly shrouded by heavy storm clouds and rain.

On these dark and stormy days, it can be difficult to remember to be grateful for clouds. My spiritual director of many years, Marilyn, used to encourage me to begin each day with a bit from the Catholic grace before meals:

“Bless me, O Lord, for these thy gifts that I’m about to receive …”

She would say to me, “everything that comes into your life today has the potential to be a gift that draws you closer to the divine. Everything. It’s easy to forget that the simple, comfortable parts of the day are gifts because we come to expect them. And it’s difficult to trust that even the darkest times have a gift hidden in them. Pray for the gift.”

In this season of gratitude and deepening darkness, I pray that the gifts of clouds find you and touch your heart.

Hugs and blessings to you, my friends,

Libby