At First Light
Early Morning from our porch in Tennessee
The early mornings pull me out to my new front porch overlooking the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. The air is still with silence. The sun has yet to peek over the eastern edge on my left. I gently rock in my chair while sipping coffee, waiting for the day to break; I hear it before I see it. The birds begin to sing light into the darkness. My Merlin Bird App tells me what I’m hearing: a Carolina Wren, a Northern Cardinal, Mourning Dove, a Song Sparrow and an Eastern Towhee. In the distance, the muffled whoosh of a car passes by on the main road. Almost imperceptibly, the darkness shifts to dawn.The sky takes on a slightly pink hue in the east, spreading to the south and west of me. Soon, the cows begin their chorus of “Milk me. Milk me. Milk me”. This sets off the crows-I’ve coined their cawing ruckus, “the crow convention”.
Sunrise at Diakonia Resort in Kenya
Sitting here, I’m reminded of another porch, thousands of miles away in western Kenya. I’ve written of this magical place before. I like to begin my days on this porch at the Diakonia Resort where I stay. I sit on a wooden chair with metal legs at a small matching wooden table, coffee and journal in hand. The days there begin with sounds as well: the soft clanking of pots and clinking of dishes as the kitchen staff prepare hot tea and breakfast, traffic rumbling by on the highway just outside the compound wall, birds singing, cows mooing. The darkness here is real darkness, pitch black, so the dawning of the sun is dramatic, quick, even in its subtleness. The rising sun paints the blue-black sky with splashes of fuchsia and yellow. Within minutes, I look up from my writing and it’s light. Such is daybreak on the Equator.
Coffee spot in Kenya
These porches welcome me like an old friend, inviting me to sit a spell. I sometimes imagine my mama sitting next to me, rocking and sipping her tea–she liked it weak, but hot, with a dash of sugar. Our conversation needs no words. Time becomes liminal, sliding between the temporal and the eternal. Here, alongside her, I find refuge and rest. Here, on these separate porches, there is room to ponder and pray.
Mist over the Smoky Mountains
Rehema Hospice and Clinic–or as some aptly call it “Rehema House”-is a place like these front porches, welcoming those worn out by disease and burdened in body and soul. Jesus says, Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28). At Rehema, there is this given rest, a refuge from the ravages of cancer, sickle cell anemia, HIV, malaria. Here, wearied souls sip deeply from the cup of Christ’s mercy readily bestowed by our entire staff. Perhaps it’s a cup of tea, a pain medication, a prayer or simply a touch of kindness that says, “you are loved.” Here, at Rehema, Christ’s light shines as brightly as the dawn illuminating the darkness.
We thank you for walking with us as we welcome and care for those suffering in body and soul in Kenya. Your generosity makes this place real. Rehema is a place of refuge, healing and rest in an otherwise chaotic world. Your prayers and support bring Christ’s light and love to those in need. As St. Bernard of Clairvaux puts it: We find rest in those we love and we provide a resting place for those who love us.
Always Mercy
