For the first time in years, I'm doing someting I once took for granted. I'm sitting at the edge of the oceans, waiting for the sun to slowly climb above the horizon and start a new day.
Time once was I could do this just about any time I wanted. Then family, obligations, the business and geography of living took hold. Before I knew it, the only water I saw each morning was a small, generic white mug of coffee.
You don't know how far you've drifted until you're able to spot a landmark on shore. For me, it's sitting here looking out over the blackness of an unlit oceanm waiting for the sun.
For the Sons of Clemson, I pray this season serves as that sunrise as well. A reminder of the days we came to take for granted. Days that we lost. Days that could easily remained hidden to many and semi-forgotten by others.
Our sunrise is just peeking above the waters. Grab it and hold it tightly. Refuse to return to the seasons of day-by-day tepidness.
We claim this high ground in the names of the Sons of Clemson. This is where we belong. Let no man say otherwise without challenge or believe it without a painful reckoning.
It has been far too long since we have been able to see the sun rise in such a commmanding position. Never ... NEVER ... take it for granted again.