Sun-soaked Worship

Today I wish to eat the sun.

I have immersed myself in its rays as much as possible, not caring a fig for other matters that might occupy my time. It seems to have poured into my bones, giving me unusual energy and a drive to further embrace the radiant orb. I nearly wish to be pulled up to it by the strong beams it emits, making me not only feel the sun's effects with my body, but to somehow know it in my mind and soul.

I tread on borderline idolatry by saying this -- dangerous ground, I know -- but the Lord knows my heart is worshiping Him that I cannot see, while enjoying His creation that I can. The sun is such a glorious parallel to Him: central to our universe, essential to sustaining all life under its beams, drawing forth life unto itself, making all the colors and textures of earth more vibrant and detailed because of its beautiful light. I take a sunny day personally, knowing that my God whose glory shines white-hot knows that my soul sends upward an unutterable "thank you" whene're the warm beams meet my brow.

"The Heavens declare the glory of God,
the skies proclaim the works of His Hands.
Day unto day, uttereth speech,
Night unto night, showeth forth knowledge."

I always loathe it when a cloud covers my belov'd star even for just a few moments. I am patient to wait for it to reappear, and I am never so happy as when it does. So with my Father of all celestial galaxies: I cringe, shiver, and pine when His face seems to be hid from view. . . but when He shines through -- lighting me body and soul with heavenly love -- I stretch out my arms and meet Him

. . . longing to feast upon the glow of His glory

. . . and longing for those beams to pull me closer.