A Gentle Promise

There is something unspeakably tender about the New Light of a new day, especially when witnessed beside the sea.

I took this photo on my visit to the island of Puerto Rico. The morning sky stretches open like a soft breath, inviting us into the quiet stillness of a new beginning. The clouds seem protective over the horizon. The water is calm, reflective, offering back a softened version of the world as if to say,

“It’s okay. You can begin again.”

The tide was low, and the rocks at the edge were bare, just as we often feel in the early hours of the day - exposed, but also full of potential. The staircase at the bottom right, simple and white, feels like an invitation. Not just to step into the sea, but to descend into the possibilities of the day ahead. It says: Start where you are. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to step forward.

The New Light of the day is a quiet, gracious reminder that no matter how chaotic yesterday was, today has arrived. It’s fresh, untouched, and full of grace. The light doesn’t rush in; it arrives softly.

In our own lives, we carry tides too. Moments of stillness, and retreat. But we also carry the promise of return; the flow of hope, of light, of clarity. Every morning we wake is a gentle rebirth, and the world outside, in all its natural beauty, mirrors the newness within us.

So today, as you breathe in the light of a new day, may you let go of what no longer serves you. May you stand at the edge of your own becoming and step forward with soft courage. Like the tide, you are enough, just as you are—coming in, going out, but always moving, always alive.