If you had thought to ask her what her favorite time of day was, she wouldn’t have been able to choose a single time. She had three favorites; after much deliberation (for she was the type of girl who pondered these things), she knew the exact reasons why.
Early morning she loved (if you could make her rise at such a time) because it was so peaceful, with just the right amount of gentle color to suit her half-awake state. The sunrise contained the promise of a new day, made sweeter when the girl held the Sword of the Spirit in her hands, preparing for the day’s battles and victories.
Evening she loved because of the sunset. It painted the sky in a brilliant rainbow, proclaimed the work of the Creator’ hands. This picturesque view never failed to bring her a sense of contentment, and she would always pause in the middle of her busy routine to gaze at the horizon in admiration and whisper, “Thanks, Lord.” She just knew that heaven was filled with sunsets, and that they were even more breathtaking than any seen on earth.
Midnight she loved because the rest of the world was asleep (on her side, anyway), and she was alone with her thoughts and her Savior. Her imagination seemed to spring to life in the darkness, in the stillness she so adored. She liked the fact that, if she so chose, the only source of light in sight was the streetlight outside her window. There was something about the silent cover of night that freed her to be wholly authentic, wholly herself. She was not required to speak; there were no tasks to accomplish save sleeping. It was there, in the middle of the night, that she was left completely to her own devices. And it was wondrous.
The girl lived for these times of day, mainly because they brought her to such an acute awareness of the One who had planned out each one.