I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when God created the sun, but of course there weren’t any flies then or, for that matter, walls. It must have been spectacular, though, as he brought into being this most important light “to rule the day.”

Here in the Florida tropics the sun rules beautifully from an azure sky. As a widow for five winter months, I’ve had a hard time watching daylight fade each day, knowing darkness would follow. Spring’s longer daylight and sunnier skies seem especially encouraging this year.

But I’ve always loved the sun, not just because it brings warmer weather and prettier sunsets but to sit beneath, as in sun-bathe. Although we need vitamin D, too much sun becomes destructive. It causes skin cancer, age spots and wrinkles, and I’m a walking testimony to all of that.

So I’ve tried to analyze what it is about sitting in the sun that captivates me. It has very little to do with getting a tan, although in my younger years it was all about that. We sat with mirrors or tin foil, doubling the power of our sunning time. And if the sun wasn’t shining, we used an indoor sun lamp, burning ourselves to blisters again and again.

Now that I’m older (and supposedly wiser), a suntan isn’t that important, yet the sun still draws me. Why is that? Part of the attraction is its link with happy family beach trips as a child. Then as a young married couple, Nate and I saved for three years before taking a road trip in our tiny Fiat to Florida… and the beach. After that, when we had children, beach trips were the perfect combination of sunshine, sand and water to guarantee family fun for every age.

So this week, here we are again, enjoying Florida’s sun and beach, although with my open facial wounds, I must stay covered. But reading or writing under a sunny sky still holds more appeal than sitting inside, even though friends have said, “Some day you’ll be sorry, ‘cause you’ll look old before your time.”

They were right about the old-before-your-time part, but not about the being-sorry. Growing up on beaches and outdoors instilled a deep appreciation for the wonders of God’s world. It increased my awe-factor toward the Creator, and in a mysterious way, sunshine figures into it. I can even understand how ancient people took it one step too far and worshipped the sun.

Of course all of us can turn appreciation into obsession, and we often do. God gives us a world full of good gifts, and we take them to extremes, transforming good to bad… as in over-doing our sun-time. There is one thing we can’t spoil by overdoing it, however, and that’s appreciating God. We can’t worship him too much, love him too much, bring him too much or depend on him too much. He willingly receives it all, even if it’s anger, disappointment, failure… or sin. He’s for us, which includes the good, the bad and the ugly.

Scripture tells us in heaven there won’t be any dark nights during which we’re looking out the window, longing for the sun to rise. God’s Son himself will light the new heaven and earth, and the sun as we know it won’t be needed. But the Bible doesn’t say there won’t be one. Since God created the sun for the first earth and called it “good”, my guess is he’ll make a new one to shine on the new earth, too. If so, I plan to sit beneath it, increasing my awe-factor toward God just as I’m doing today. I just hope I won’t have to wear the hat.

We are not to be “high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who gives us richly all things to enjoy.” (1 Timothy 6:17)

Last year at this time Nate and I were packing our bags to travel to England. Hans and Katy’s firstborn, Nicholas Carl, was going to be christened, and we were eagerly looking forward to participating.

The time we spent with our shirt-tail relatives in northern England was delightful, and since I got to stay an extra week, grandma-time was abundant. It’s not easy having grandchildren so far from home, especially when there’s an ocean between us. Spending a big chunk of time being involved in Nicholas’ life was rewarding, not to mention the fun of being with Hans and Katy. Soon I’ll go back to cuddle newborn twins.

Last Easter we stayed with Katy’s parents, always gracious hosts, and slept in the bedroom they’d allowed Hans to use for many weeks before he married their daughter in the summer of 2007. We got to know Hans’ “other family” better, pleased at how warmly Sarah and Cliff have embraced their son-in-law.

While we were there, all of us visited several tourist sights, one of which included a complicated maze of thick hedges eight feet tall. The idea was to follow the curves and turns, many of which were dead ends, to eventually arrive in the middle. It wasn’t easy, and although none of us succeeded that day, we had some good laughs trying, and also hollering for each other over the bushes.

The well-trimmed hedges made me think of the scriptural principle of God “hedging us in” from harm. The famous story of the Old Testament character Job tells of how he was hedged in so well he prospered in every category of his life. At least that’s what Satan thought when he talked to God about breaking through that wall of protection. The devil complained that such a shield from harm wouldn’t allow Job’s faith to be tested. We know the story of how God “opened the hedge” for Satan, confident Job’s faith wouldn’t fail.

But how did Job feel, while hedged in by God? He tells us: “Why is life given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?” (3:23) Job didn’t like it!

The hedge maze we walked through in England had its disadvantages, too. Although no one could see us through the thick greenery if we’d wanted to hide, we couldn’t see them either or find our way to the center. And if we got going too fast along the path and bumped into the bushes, they poked and hurt.

Maybe Job experienced similar frustrations with his being hedged in from satanic harm. He did get his chance, however, to experience the absence of God’s hedge, and the result was torturous.

I’ve often asked the Lord to hedge in my children from evil and harm. Until I experienced the big, stiff hedge bushes in England, it never occurred to me that being hedged in might feel badly. When I pray fervently for the kids, more often than not the circumstances of their lives get worse before they get better. Could that be God’s removal of the hedge to allow testing into their lives? After studying Job’s example, I think it is.

Sometimes God’s provisions, structured for our gain, feel like prickles or punishments, much like the poking branches of a bush-hedge. When we feel life’s bristles, though, it might simply mean we’re bumping up against God’s protection. A really strong hedge might even have thorns in it. But we ought to be careful about trying to remove it, learning from Job’s example that nothing good is waiting on the other side.

“Does Job fear God for nothing?” Satan replied. “Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land.” (Job 1:9-10)

Nate loved the horn on his car. Each evening as he arrived home, he’d toot the horn twice as he pulled up to the garage as if to say, “I’m home!”

A few years after that became standard, he added another set of toots when turning into the drive. And several years after that, he began honking as he rounded the corner onto our street. When I talked to him about it, he had no intention of stopping and said his goal was to get a horn that sounded out the notes of Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender.” Although he never accomplished that, the boys did buy him an air horn louder than a freight train and installed it under the hood, giving him the surprise of his life. He loved it.

All of Nate’s horn-blowing irritated me, partly because of the noise and partly because I thought the neighbors must be cringing inside their houses at the disruption on our quiet cul de sac. It was six unnecessary loud, long blasts each time he came home. But when I talked to Nate about it, he just laughed and said, “Everybody loves a nice horn.”

Tonight the girls and I will be sleeping in a luxurious home on Sanibel Island filled with wonderful relatives who welcomed us warmly. We talked of former adventures on this island when our two families used to rent houses next door to each other annually.

One fun memory of Nate brought enthusiastic laughter as we remembered how his horn-honking came all the way to Sanibel. The four younger girls, still in single digit ages, were out roller blading when they spotted an alligator crossing the road. These unpredictable beasts look lazy and low-key but can swivel around lightning-fast and snap their jaws with deadly force.

The girls raced back to our houses to holler for help. Just then Nate drove in with the day’s newspapers, right up to the alligator, and lay on his horn like never before with long, blaring honks that practically shook the stilts from under the houses. When the alligator paused on the road to look at the car, Nate considered that his go-ahead for further honking. In the end, he had to give up and back up, since the alligator refused to be intimidated. Eventually the reptile wandered into a nearby swamp and our girls were able to resume their skate.

Back in Illinois, I talked to Nate about his horn-honking repeatedly, asking him to at least cut down the frequency, but he never complied. Then one day as I was planting flowers with my back to the street, he blasted the horn and I jumped a mile. He didn’t mean to startle me and quickly got out of his car to apologize, promising never to honk the horn again. I didn’t believe a word of it, but he followed through. That very day the honking completely stopped.

The Bible is full of blaring horns, and God instructed people to make noise with them when leading troops into battle, when fighting, when announcing victory and when celebrating afterwards. Trumpets and rams horns were used in worship and in making joyful music combined with other instruments. And when God decides it’s finally time for time to end, he’ll assign angels to blow horns just before each judgments occurs.

Because Nate is now with the Lord, its possible God has assigned him horn-honking/blowing as part of his heavenly service. If the Lord asked for volunteers, I know Nate’s hand would have been waving wildly. I hope he’s having an absolute blast!

”Make music to the Lord…with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn. Shout for joy before the Lord, the King.” (Psalm 98:5-6)