For so many years you were a stranger to me. I mostly missed out on the wonders you held by sleeping in up to the last minute. The alarm would blare! I'd jump out of bed and dash to the shower, throw on some clothes, gulp down breakfast... and out the door I'd go! But for the last several years my frantic habits have changed. Setting my alarm an hour earlier than needed felt risky at first. Could I live on an hour less of sleep? Could I get out of bed? Would my quiet hour be productive? What did you have that I needed? Could I come to embrace rather than grimace at the thought of you?
Routine came my rescue.
Now my alarm goes off and after a few minutes of deliberation, ending in determination, I push my legs over the side of the bed, slip into my clogs and will myself up and out. Picking up clothes and unplugging my phone from its cord, I head to the bathroom, not wanting to disturb my husband. My senses come awake as I hear the timer, indicating that my coffee is ready, the enticing odor already wafting up the back stairs. Picking out a mug, filling it and heading back upstairs helps me wake up as I wonder what I might discover in the coming hour. Time flies as I quietly offer these minutes to connect with my heart and to meet with God.
Thank you lovely morning, for waking me up to the beauty of each new day. Thank you for offering me one-more-day in which to receive of your glories. Thank you for the gift you are. No one is guaranteed another one, and yet, here you are offering yourself quite freely!