Where Heaven Brushes the Horizon

A sunset is the sun’s fiery kiss to the night, a brief and tender moment when the day surrenders its light and the world is left glowing with memory. -  Crystal Woods

There is just something about sunsets…

This evening was supposed to be a busy one for me. I was meant to attend a meeting and then rush off to a dinner with friends. But both were cancelled last minute - to my relief, actually. So instead, I lay on my couch watching the new season of a favourite series when a ray of sunlight caught my eye. I caught a glimpse of the world that lay beyond the four walls of the little cottage I called home.

I walked outside as my show continued playing an intense western fight scene and found a peace that did not exist inside. I quickly turned off the TV and went to lie on the bright green grass, the sky glowing gold.

Today was particularly hot and had only just begun to ease off. I wanted to kick myself for wasting such a splendid evening watching TV. My faithful dogs lay with me - Molly falling asleep on her back with her legs in the air, as if mid-roll, while Max stretched out beside us, occasionally snapping at a bug buzzing around his head.

I have a deep love for sunsets. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good sunrise as much as the next person, and I see a lot of them being an early riser myself. But sunsets hold a different peace, a different feeling. Sunrises carry anticipation; they are the calm before the storm. They kick-start the day, making room for all that is to come.

Not sunsets, though. They are more mysterious. They are endings.

They remind me of scenes in war movies, when the hero walks through the battlefield after the fighting has ended - surrounded by smoke and destruction, yet completely safe. It sounds morbid, I know, but the point I’m trying to make is this: the war is over, for now at least. He can take stock and rest, knowing he is safe for the time being.

Although we are not all living through physical wars every day, we are all facing battles of our own - sometimes external, always internal. I believe God knew that we would need a moment in our day, before our physical bodies rested, to rest our souls. And His solution? Dusk. He turned the earth golden and the sky quiet.

Dawn and dusk are both transitional phases. They are neither night nor day, but something in between. I am not someone who fears change - quite the contrary, I love it. I find that the sadness of what was lost through change usually hits me long after the fact, in retrospect. “Go” has always been easy - nay, exciting - for me. It is “stay” that I struggle with.

I am currently in a season of life where God is teaching me to stay. I have a tendency to leave when faced with discomfort or pain; it is easier than facing it. I am a master reframer and can turn incredibly tragic or negative experiences into something positive. But it turns out you can’t run forever. Pain has a way of catching up to us, no matter how fast or how far we run. Struggle is a part of life - there is no way around it.

Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how any of this has to do with sunsets. Everyone is waiting on something - a person, an adventure, a position.

In the words of C.S. Lewis:

I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy. The most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.

God knew that we would live in perpetual transition until we reach heaven, where we will finally be fully satisfied by the only thing that can bring true satisfaction: God Himself. So He gives us glimpses of heaven through creation, and He gives rest to our souls through sunsets. To show us, there is beauty in the mystery.

Sunsets are so beautiful that they almost seem as if we were looking through the gates of Heaven. - John Lubbock