When Monday Begins with Stillness: A Sunrise Reflection from Hunting Island

When Monday Begins with Stillness:

A Sunrise Reflection from Hunting Island 

At Fripp Island in May 2020, I honestly dreaded going home.

I had been enjoying one of my happiest places on the planet, where the rush of normal life seemed to loosen its grip for a little while. The ocean has a way of doing that for me. I walked along the beach as if Jesus Himself were walking beside me in the crash of the waves. The salt air, the open shoreline, and the steady rhythm of the water helped my soul breathe again.

But vacation was ending, and the routine was waiting.

Like many people during that season, Lisa and I were exhausted from the uncertainty, restrictions, and emotional weight of the COVID-19 pandemic. People processed that season in different ways, and I know some families carried deep grief, fear, and loss. For us, by May 2020, we were weary from the constant tension and ready for some space to breathe. Restaurants and stores were beginning to open again, and we decided to take a needed vacation with my family on Fripp Island, South Carolina.

At the same time, everything in my world was about to change.

Lisa was about seven months pregnant with Annabelle, who was expected to arrive in late August. I was preparing to begin a Ph.D. program in Communication at the University of Tennessee. That opportunity meant we would soon move to Knoxville, Tennessee, where I had received a full scholarship and assistantship to pay for my graduate studies, including four years of tuition and a small monthly stipend.

It was a generous offer I did not want to waste.

But it also meant three major life changes were coming at once. We were moving to a new city. I was starting a new academic job and a four-year commitment to doctoral studies. And I was becoming a father for the first time.

Those were exciting blessings, but they were also heavy responsibilities. While going to the beach provided some relief from the upcoming stress, I still regretted going home. I knew I would eventually have to face all these changes head on. I was not feeling especially motivated to make all of it happen. I wanted life to slow down long enough for the pace of my thoughts to slow down too.

So, before beginning the long drive home, I decided to wake up early and visit Hunting Island State Park, the next island down from Fripp Island. Lisa rode home with my parents that day, which gave me some needed time alone. I set my alarm for 5:15 a.m. so I could arrive in time to watch the sunrise around 6:40 a.m.

Hunting Island is known for the lighthouse that stands beautifully in the middle of the island. As far as I know, it is the only publicly climbable lighthouse in South Carolina. One of my favorite memories there is climbing those 167 steps with my Grandmother Cartee. Even in her older years, she did not give up. Step by step, she kept going until she reached the top. That memory still reminds me of her strength, determination, and quiet joy.

But on this particular morning, I was not there to climb. I was there to be still.

In Mark 6:31, Jesus tells His disciples, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” That specific part of this Bible verse felt personal on the beach that morning because I was not only stepping away from a vacation. I was stepping away, even briefly, from the weight of everything waiting for me at home: fatherhood, a move to Knoxville, doctoral studies, financial responsibility, and a future I could not yet fully picture. Jesus understood that even faithful people need moments of quiet retreat. He knew the soul sometimes needs a place apart where the noise settles, the body breathes, and the heart remembers that God is already present before the next responsibility begins.

Stillness is not always easy for me. My mind can race ahead to the next responsibility, the next task, the next deadline, or the next concern. But as the sun began to rise over Hunting Island, everything seemed to slow down.

The sky gradually shifted from darkness to color. The breeze moved gently across the water. The waves crashed with a steady rhythm that felt older and stronger than my worries. For those few minutes, I was reminded that the world does not depend on my constant motion. God was already present before my day began. His creation was already singing before I said a word.

I am not naturally a morning person, but I was grateful I made time to breathe that day.

After the sunrise, I sat on the beach for about ninety minutes, praying, journaling, and letting my spirit settle. I did not solve every problem. I did not suddenly feel excited about returning to routine. But something inside me became quieter. The dread did not disappear all at once, but it loosened. Gratitude began to make room where anxiety had been sitting.

That is one of the gifts of breathtaking scenery. It reminds us that life is larger than our calendars. A sunrise does not erase responsibility, but it can help us carry responsibility with a renewed heart. Stillness does not remove every burden, but it reminds us that we do not carry those burdens alone.

After leaving Hunting Island, I stopped in Bluffton, South Carolina. Bluffton has its own centeredness and quiet charm, especially compared to larger coastal cities like Charleston and Savannah. I walked through local parks and along the water. I visited art galleries and appreciated the talents of local artists. I ate lunch at a quaint restaurant with affordable seafood and let the day unfold slowly.

Eventually, I headed home.

By the time I arrived, I was tired from the long drive, but I was also peaceful. I was greeted by my beautiful wife, grateful for my family, and ready to rest. Annabelle had not yet arrived, but her arrival was close. Our family was about to change forever. Knoxville was waiting. A Ph.D. program was waiting. Fatherhood was waiting. Responsibility was waiting. But so was grace.

The next morning was Monday.

Normally, Monday can feel like a return to the grind. It can feel like the end of freedom and the beginning of obligation. But that Monday felt different. I had watched the sun rise. I had prayed beside the waves. I had walked through quiet places. I had remembered that God meets us not only in church pews and sacred songs, but also on beaches, in breezes, on boardwalks, and along coastal roads when the soul needs room to breathe.

Maybe Mondays are not always as bad as we think.

Maybe they can become invitations…

An invitation to begin again…an invitation to carry gratitude into the routine…an invitation to remember that peace is not limited to vacation. God can meet us in the breathtaking scenery of a sunrise, but He can also walk with us into the emails, meetings, school responsibilities, dishes, deadlines, decisions, and ordinary tasks waiting at home.

That morning on Hunting Island reminded me that stillness prepares the soul for the next step. Sometimes, before we return to the routine, we need to pause long enough to notice the grace already around us.

And sometimes, Monday begins better when Sunday ends with gratitude.

 

#WhenMondayBeginsWithStillness #Mark631 #HuntingIsland #FrippIsland #ChristianReflection #SoulRest #FaithAndStillness #GodInTheOrdinary #GratitudeAndGrace #PeaceInTheRoutine 

Above the City, Into a New Year....Still Choosing You at Midnight

Above the City, Into a New Year
Still Choosing You at Midnight

  

I believe that marriage should be celebrated beyond anniversaries alone. As the years pass, it becomes increasingly important to pause and intentionally mark our love—through shared moments, meaningful dates, and reminders that our commitment is still alive, still joyful, and still worth celebrating. Marriage thrives when it is honored not once a year, but often, thoughtfully, and with gratitude.

Lisa and I live in Knoxville, Tennessee, a city rich with history and character. Knoxville was home to the 1982 World’s Fair, an event still commemorated today by World’s Fair Park and its most iconic landmark—the Sunsphere. Rising above the park like a glowing crown, the Sunsphere resembles a giant mirrored disco ball perched atop a tall tower. By day it reflects the sky and surrounding city; by night it glows warmly, watching over Knoxville as a symbol of celebration, creativity, and civic pride. For many locals, it represents one of the most cherished chapters in the city’s story.

Every New Year’s Eve, World’s Fair Park becomes a gathering place for hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of people welcoming the new year together. There is live music echoing across the lawn, food vendors lining the walkways, fireworks lighting up the sky, and the signature New Year’s countdown ball suspended high above the crowd. January evenings in East Tennessee can be cold, but the energy of the celebration has a way of warming everyone gathered below.

Inside the Sunsphere itself are several floors housed within the bronze-tinted sphere at the top of the structure. These circular floors are often used as event spaces for private gatherings, such as fundraisers, receptions, tailgates, and special celebrations. On this particular New Year’s Eve, one such celebration caught our attention.

After much discussion, Lisa and I decided to do something a little out of the ordinary for us. We purchased tickets to an elegant New Year’s Eve party hosted across two floors of the Sunsphere. From the moment we arrived, it was clear this would be a memorable evening. The views alone were breathtaking. From high above the city, Knoxville unfolded beneath us in a quiet glow—streetlights tracing familiar routes, neighborhoods tucked into the hills, and the University of Tennessee campus clearly visible, including its iconic sports stadiums. At night, the city felt both vast and intimate at the same time.

Each floor of the Sunsphere is perfectly circular, a reminder that you are standing inside a sphere suspended above the ground. The architecture itself added to the uniqueness of the evening. It felt like celebrating inside a landmark, not just observing it from below.

We arranged for a babysitter and headed downtown early to enjoy another Knoxville tradition: the Peppermint Trail in Market Square. During the holidays, the city transforms the square with festive lights and candy-themed decorations. A towering Christmas tree, measuring several stories tall, stood proudly near the center. It rivaled the height of nearby office buildings. An ice-skating rink had been constructed in the middle of the square, filled with laughter, music, and the scrape of skates against ice. Lisa and I took a brisk walk through the square, soaking in the lights, the movement, and the holiday spirit that lingered just before the new year. We stopped for sushi at a nearby restaurant, sharing an appetizer and conversation before continuing on to the night’s main event.

The Sunsphere New Year’s Eve party began at 9:00 p.m., and guests were welcomed with a late dinner almost immediately. The catered meal felt indulgent and celebratory—ribeye steaks or glazed chicken in a rich bourbon sauce, roasted potatoes filled with bacon, fresh salads, warm rolls, traditional vegetable sides, and an impressive assortment of desserts. It was the kind of meal that encouraged lingering, conversation, and unhurried enjoyment.

From our vantage point inside the Sunsphere, we could look down into World’s Fair Park where hundreds of people gathered on the lawn, listening to live music as they awaited midnight. The countdown ball hung from a massive crane, glowing softly as the hour approached. When the final minutes arrived, the atmosphere inside our party shifted. Party favors appeared; glasses were raised; and voices joined together in anticipation.

As the countdown began, everyone counted aloud, eyes fixed either on the city below or on the faces of those around them. When the ball finally dropped and the clock struck midnight, fireworks erupted across the sky. Watching a fireworks display from such a height was a unique experience—the bursts seemed closer, brighter, and more immersive. It felt as though the celebration wrapped around us.

Inside, our party had its own live band, and they were exceptional. They invited the crowd to participate, laugh, and move. Lisa and I danced—sometimes with the group, sometimes together—moving to southern rock, upbeat country songs, classic celebration music, and even slower songs that allowed us to sway and hold one another. Dancing with my wife high above the city, surrounded by music and joy, felt like a moment suspended in time.

We shared our table with several other couples and individuals, seated around round tables that mirrored the circular design of the Sunsphere itself. Conversation flowed easily, and by the end of the night we had exchanged phone numbers with another couple, already talking about meeting again sometime in 2026. Being away from our children for so many hours felt a bit unusual, but the uninterrupted time with Lisa was deeply meaningful.

Just after midnight, breakfast items were served on the top floor—small but welcome bites before heading home. The band played until the very end, filling the space with energy right up to 1:00 a.m. On the drive home, Lisa and I replayed moments from the evening, laughing, reflecting, and quietly thankful for the memories we had just made.

We do not often attend events like this, which made the night even more special. Lisa treated herself to a pedicure and a new evening dress for the occasion, and she looked absolutely beautiful—as only she can. Watching her dance, laugh, and enjoy the evening was a gift in itself.

The heart of this reflection is simple: celebrate your marriage. Go on date nights. Take walks together. Create space for joy. Be intentional with time…both with your spouse and with your children. A good marriage deserves celebration, not just once a year, but throughout every season. Like our New Year’s Eve at the Sunsphere, love is meant to be marked, remembered, and rejoiced in.

For our marriage, and for the life we share, Lisa and I give the Lord thanks. 

(Lisa and I sat down for a photo opportunity at the sushi restaurant before we walked over to the private party.) 

(Lisa and I posed for another photo with an intriguing backdrop of the Knoxville skyline behind us.)

(This was a picture of the ball that was dropped in World’s Fair Park at midnight to mark a New Year beginning in 2026.)

(A band called Wasted Major from Nashville entertained us for several hours at the New Year’s Eve party…playing country, southern rock, pop, and some other classic party tunes.)

(Lisa looked beautiful in her new evening gown dress at the Sunsphere New Year’s Eve party.)

(This depiction showed what part of our party looked like inside the Sunsphere. One can see the curvature of the glass with the circular architecture of this mirror ball tower.)

(On the way back to the car, I captured some upward pictures of the Sunsphere with the moon.) 

 

#MarriageMatters #StillChoosingYou #IntentionalMarriage #GratefulHeart #CelebratingLove #DateNightMemories #NewYearsReflection #KnoxvilleTN
#WorldsFairPark #Sunsphere #NewYearsEve #AboveTheCity