Love Him in the morning when you see the sun a-rising

Love Him in the evening ‘cause He took you through the day

And in the in-between time when you feel the pressure coming

Remember that He loves you and He promises to stay

Yesterday, I no sooner saw the sun a-rising than I found myself immediately thrust into the pressure of the in-between time. No time to feel it coming; it was already there. Marti was forced to endure two emergency dentist appointments and the pain of a two-hour root canal surgery made more difficult by multiple complications. I, in the meantime, was forced to endure the pain of trying to figure out how we were going to pay for all this pain. We got home with barely enough time to acknowledge the Lord for taking us through the day, but you know, He did.

Looking at earthly dilemmas through the eyes of the Lord, makes problems shrink down to a size where they become more manageable. My anxiety pales when compared to the eternal weight of glory that God is building into all our lives. (2 Corinthians 4:17)  “For our momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison.”

So what this little song does is keep us in communion with God throughout our days, however difficult or mundane, and in being in communion with God, we are tied to a perspective that goes far beyond our small earthly existence. So you see, this song was never a little ditty; it is an ethereal anthem that opens the gateway to heaven and life beyond this planet. It puts us in our place — in our eternal place.

This morning, in our weekly Vanguard zoom call, I had four grown men standing up and doing the hand motions to the “All Day Song.” (Mike High was outside on his property fixing a leak in his irrigation system when he stopped and did the hand motions with us. I wonder what his neighbors thought if they caught him waving his arm back and forth while standing next to a hole in the ground. I love that thought.) And then, one by one, each one of us told a story about a morning, and an evening, and an in-between time of our experience this week. Suddenly, in the telling, nothing was mundane anymore; it was all twice the size of anyone’s memory. For there, standing in our rooms or in some field, speaking not out of some principle or doctrine, or creed, but just out of God interacting in the stories of our lives, we found ourselves suddenly standing at the gateway to heaven.

“Love Him in the morning…”