Mild Comes the Morning

“When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
The moon and the stars, which You have ordained,
What is man that You are mindful of him,
And the son of man that You care for him?
Yet You have made him a little lower than the angels,
And You have crowned him with glory and honor.” Psalm 8:3-5

“The heavens declare the glory of God,
    and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours out speech,
    and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
    whose voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out through all the earth,
    and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun,
   which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
    and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
    and its circuit to the end of them,
    and there is nothing hidden from its heat.” Psalm 19:1-6

“Behold, I go forward, but he is not there,
    and backward, but I do not perceive him;
on the left hand when he is working, I do not behold him;
    he turns to the right hand, but I do not see him.
But he knows the way that I take;
    when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold…
He is unchangeable…
    What he desires, that he does.
He will complete what he appoints for me,
    and many such things are in his mind.” Job 23:8-10,13-14

Air dark and quiet
Dew drips from eaves
Stillness before dawn
No breath of a breeze

A single bird calls out
Poking silence with song
Early she’s risen
To spread praise along

Announcing that day
Is tiptoeing in
Light bringing light, 
Ushered forth by the King

Mild comes the morning
Soft, like a wash. 
Blushing horizon
Shrugging night off

But what of the heart
Weighed heavy with cares?
Trembling and tortured
Tangled in tares?

Terrors loom heavy 
Unknowns threaten peace
Lives in the balance
Relational unease

Uncertain future
Regrettable past
Yearnings that gnaw
How long will these last?

Roiling emotions
Throttle and sway
Fears haunt night hours
Cares rule the day

Mild comes the morning?
Can it be true?
That the Lord of the orbits
Knows all of this too?

How could His tending
To planets and space,
History unfolding
The world with its pace

Take account for me?
Know longing and fears?
How do my moments
Fit into His years?

Yet mild comes the morning
Day after day
Reflecting His constancy
In faithful array

No matter our sorrow
Or turmoil of soul
Pressures abounding
Hearts growing cold

The God of the morning
Carries the day
Upholding His children
Along all their way

With every dawning
No matter the plight
He reminds of His presence
Through the hours, the night

His glory abounds
His arm rules His feats
His good plans unfold
As He constantly repeats

‘Mild comes the morning,
Beloved of mine
I know every crevice
And into them shine

Fresh hope in the darkness
New mercies to hold
Strength for each hour
Love that never grows cold

So awaken each gift day
With soul renewed
Mild comes the morning
That will carry you through.’

Loving Father, help me carry Your rule of the morning into moments and hours that shine for You.