Leah Farmer

Personal perspectives on faith, literature, and life.


I like to compare God’s love to the sunrise. That sun shows up every morning, no matter how bad you’ve been the night before. It shines without judgement. It never withholds. It warms the sinners, the saints, the druggies, the cheerleaders–the saved and the heathens alike. You can hide from the sun, but it won’t take that personally. It’ll never, ever punish you for hiding. You can stay in the dark for years or decades, and when you finally step outside, it’ll be there. It was there the whole time, shining and shining. It’ll still be there, steady and bright as ever, just waiting for you to notice, to come out, to be warmed. All those years, I thought of God and light and the sun as judgmental, but they weren’t. The sunrise was my daily invitation from God to come back to life.


My best friend and I have been having a lot of conversations about God’s love, blessing, faith, and failure. And then I read this today. And my soul took a deep breath.

This…THIS…is how I feel on my yoga mat. On the beach with sand under my toes. Laying in bed with kitties purring. On a patio breathing warm air and sunshine after the rain. Sitting in my comfy chair and drinking the perfect cup of coffee.

Sunrise. Love. Breath. Harmony. Peace.

So for every person who wishes to remind me how wrong I’ve got it, I say “ssshhhhhh…I’m watching the sunrise.”

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