For years, I have had the habit of occasionally waking up long before sunrise and driving about 40 minutes to the beach to spend the first few hours of the morning there. There is something special about getting up before everyone else, while it is still dark, preparing for the drive, and enjoying the stillness of the early morning as I look forward to the sunrise I am about to witness.
It is my way of pausing, organizing my thoughts, and, above all, reconnecting with God while taking in what, for me, is one of the most beautiful sights. Something remarkable happens during those minutes when it is still dark, but the light gradually begins to appear. The landscape does not change all at once. At first, there is only the sound of the waves and the feeling of sand beneath my feet. Then a faint orange line appears on the horizon, followed by a blend of colors and rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds, as if stretching before waking up. Almost without realizing it, everything that had been hidden in the darkness begins to emerge in the clarity of the morning light.
One day, as I read Proverbs 4:18–19, I understood why I keep returning to that shore: life with God is rarely like a sudden flash of light. It is much more like a sunrise. Clarity comes gradually, step by step, decision by decision.
“The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day. But the way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know what makes them stumble.” (NIV)
I am fascinated that Solomon described the path of the righteous this way. Sometimes we wait for great moments that will transform our lives overnight, when much of our journey is shaped by much smaller decisions.
A few verses later comes one of the chapter’s best-known counsels: “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” (verse 23). Perhaps that is where it all begins. What we allow into our minds and hearts influences our thoughts; our thoughts influence our decisions; and our decisions, repeated day after day, gradually shape the path we travel.
It becomes a kind of virtuous cycle: one good decision makes the next one easier. Seek wisdom. Listen to those with more experience. Keep God’s Word in your heart. Pause before making a decision. Choose carefully what you allow to feed your mind.
None of these actions seems extraordinary on its own, but together they can set the direction of our lives. Perhaps that is why I have come to value those mornings by the sea so much. It is not simply the peacefulness of the beach or the beauty of the sunrise. It is having a space, before the demands of the day begin, to fill my mind with God’s Word, talk with Him, and remember the direction I want my steps to take.
Not because doing so guarantees that everything will turn out well. Wisdom does not prevent every problem, and walking with God does not mean we will never experience pain, loss, or circumstances beyond our control. But it can help us decide how we will walk when those moments come.
Perhaps that is why I will continue waking up on some mornings while it is still dark and driving those 40 minutes to the ocean. Not because I believe the sunrise has any special power, but because every time I watch the light slowly appear over the horizon, I am reminded that growth can happen the same way: little by little.
One wiser decision. A different reaction. A word we choose not to say. A moment spent listening to God before we act. One step in the right direction.
I invite you to find your own place and time to be alone with God. Pause, listen, keep His Word in your heart, and allow Him, little by little, to guide your next steps.
And perhaps that is precisely how life is built: one decision, one step, and one sunrise at a time.