Waiting for sunrise

A ruler who obeys God and does right is like the sunrise on a cloudless day, or like rain that sparkles on the grass. -- 2 Samuel 23:3-4

For most of my life I've been getting up before dawn to go to work.

Before I left for college, farm chores beckoned every morning, rain or shine. Our barn faced east, and on frosty mornings I'd follow the example of the calico cat sitting on a rock next to the front of the barn. We would pause there together until we went in to milk the cow.

After I left for college, my up-before-dawn days were pretty much limited to Monday through Friday. Weekends meant sleeping in, and I got very good at it.

I can remember weekdays after I started working for newspapers when the alarm would go off and I would groan out loud, because I wanted to go back to sleep. But I didn't. I knew if I closed my eyes again, I would sleep too long and be late for work. I have never been late for work -- at least not because of sleeping late.

Over the years my body adjusted to the routine of getting up when it is still dark outside. Eventually I got to the point that I would wake up a minute or two before the alarm went off. At some point I stopped setting the alarm. Not setting an alarm may sound like risky business, but I always wake up.

Sometimes, like when we have to get up to drive to St. Louis to go to the airport, I set the alarm because I'm afraid the one morning I'll sleep late is the morning we will miss our flight if I do. I don't sleep much with the alarm set. I wake up every half-hour or so to look at the clock to make sure the alarm is set.

I used to grumble about having to get up when I wanted to sleep late. Now I grumble because I can't sleep late on weekends. Once daylight gets into the bedroom, I'm wide awake.

Once upon a time, when we lived in Maryville, Mo., the vice president of Northwest Missouri State University at the time made a comment I've never forgotten.

Bob said he counts the day lost that he does not see the sun rise.

I couldn't figure out what he was saying at first, but it later dawned (appropriately) on me that he wasn't bragging about getting up early so much as he was describing the simple joy of seeing a spectacular sunrise.

Believe me, great sunrises have beautiful sunsets beat by a mile.

Yes, I enjoy a pretty sunset. But there is something about the rising of the sun that is full of promise and hope: another full day ahead, gilded clouds made into magnificent tapestries spread across the eastern sky, beauty so breathtaking that you have to stop what you're doing and say "Wow!" out loud.

It's too bad most people miss the biggest light show of the day by sleeping past sunrise.

I can't tell you how many times I've come to work just as the sun is creeping over the Shawnee National Forest across the river in Illinois. From Lorimier Street next to the Southeast Missourian building you have a fantastic vantage point of those brilliant displays. Sometimes I am disappointed that everyone else is sleeping while this is going on.

I've come to appreciate Bob's view that a day without a good sunrise is a day without ... well, something a lot better than orange juice.

Sometimes Missourians make fun of their neighboring states. Say what you want about Illinois, but it delivers fantastic sunrises.

See for yourself. You'll like it.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.