It was two o’clock in the morning and I had just woken up from a particularly nasty dream.  I was in those tender moments between wakefulness and sleep, my phone tucked under my pillow with worship music softly filling the dark quiet and Josh’s heavy breathing next to me.  And for an exhausted hour, I prayed.  Words slipped off my tongue and out of my memory and I knew I was experiencing a deeper part of Him.  One I wouldn’t remember.  Hearing murmurs of truth that would hold fast in my spirit.  I remember thinking “I should write this down”.  I didn’t.  But there are nine words that did stick with me:

There was evening.
And there was morning.
The first day.

The next morning, I climbed back into bed with fresh coffee on the nightstand and Genesis 1 open on the covers.  I began thinking about darkness and life and the darkness of life.  And how we associate a day by beginning in the morning and ending in the evening.  But it’s not that way in Scripture.

First, You created the heavens.  Then the earth.  But darkness was on the face of the deep.  And You hovered over the face of the waters.  And whispered light.  Because You are light.  And in You is no darkness at all.  Oh, what that first light must have looked like.  With Your face hovered.  And your holy reflection shining back.

And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.  Hovered.  Brooding over the shapeless mass of the earth. Cherishing and vivifying. Hanging over closely.

There is just something about the ocean.  About sitting in bed like I am right now in this incredible beach home, looking at it.  Watching it.  Imagining Your face hovering over it.  Whispering over it.  Ripples pushing outward as darkness gives way to light and colors build and change in the most glorious fashion.

You hovered over the face of the waters and whispered ‘Let there be light.’  And last night, when I woke up to the darkest part of the night, You hovered over my face.  And spoke light.

You speak light in the darkest of seasons.  And You called the light Day.  And the darkness Night.

So the evening and the morning were the first day.

And the evening and the morning were the second day.

And the third.  And the fourth.  And every single day since.

From night to end of night.

From darkness to light.

From sunset to coming of daylight.  Bright joy after a night of distress.  From weeping in the night to joy in the morning.

It makes sense when I think about it.  Our day does not end in darkness.  And this life does not end in darkness.  But there’s something more there.  And the lightbulb goes off.

This body of mine is made up of mostly water.  And so I pray, Holy Spirit hover over the face of THIS body of water.  And whisper light.  Send Your ripple of glory through me.  Start a ripple effect right here, right now, that will spread to the other bodies of water around me.  Reflect Your face off of me, LORD.  And reflect Your face off them.

Holy Spirit, hover.