She was always in some kind of love affair with the sun. Sunshine had a way of making her come to life. Of reminding her that He was there; that He saw her and remembered her and heard her heart. Whether it was setting or rising or shining bright and high in the sky or glaring off her windshield, peeking through her living room windows or turning her skin a shade of pink - any way it was, she thought it was lovely, perfect.
But always. Always the sun made her feel alive again.
Melting away anything that was frozen over inside of her heart. Calling her to play, to run, to live.
It was His "Good Morning." His "I see you darling." His "I know this one will take your breath away." He had a way of romancing her, wooing her with His warmth and brilliant light. And she was like His sunflower - bending, stretching, moving towards Him as He made His way through the sky.
And on this day, this January day that came after days and days of gray and cold and wet and dreary, she found herself thankful for them. It made her love the sun and all of its glory even more. It made this day, this light of the sun, this blue sky all the more special. Because it meant that once again she was seen and remembered. He sent it to her when she needed it most. And He always did that. Always came through.
The Son. Her truest of true loves. Kissing golden sundrops onto her eyelashes.