See Something More

While the sky was still dark, I quietly slipped out of the cabin and escaped to a place called “sunrise point” on the eastern side of Mt. Nebo. You know I wasn’t going to miss this.  I had gone to bed only a few hours earlier, considering that the cabin contained a crew of six bridesmaids and one excited bride on the night before her wedding. A cookie log, a showing of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and hours of reminiscing, story telling, and dreaming of the future kept us up later than we predicted, but not too late to keep me from the sunrise.  I knew the day would hold lots of dresses, dolling up, and dainty things...so I set out for a little romancing of my own before the day began.  When the glorious colors of orange and pink whisked the night away and the clouds swirled together with new shades of daytime blue, as dawn took the earth by the eyes, I knew God was meeting me there, loving me, and reminding me that the same glory in the colors of the sunrise are found in the

When the alarm goes off at 6:00 am, my eyes pop open and I sit straight up in my sleeping bag. It’s still dark outside, but even the darkness beckons me to come out and look. My dad is already awake, heating water on a pocket rocket stove. Two coffee mugs sit there empty, waiting for the hot water like I’m waiting for the sunrise.  We are hiking on Isle Royale, a remote island in Lake Superior that is only accessible by ferry or float plane. We are hiking west to east, all forty-five miles across this long skinny island wilderness. We are day six into our adventure, and we’ve found a campsite with a big rock that slides down into Lake Superior. It faces east, a perfect sunrise rock.  The problem is, we haven’t seen the sun but for perhaps two hours in six full days. The weather is variable in the middle of the Great Lakes, and we’ve caught a cloudy, rainy week. But it’s okay; great even. Because we’re not fair weather hikers. In fact, nothing is better than hearing rain pound