I am a morning person. No really I am.
I would just rather spend the morning in bed.
Getting out of my blanket-cocoon is an act of sheer will, an every-day miracle.
To me, the alarm clock is a pebble in my shoe. Indeed, it is a fingernail on the chalkboard of my day. The cheery voices on the radio station are like that sparkly confetti that bursts out of greeting cards onto the lap of some hapless soul.
“Five … more … minutes,” I grumble to my husband. He laughs at my predictable pre-dawn routine.
He shakes my shoulder, jabs me gently in the ribs, then bounds out of bed, like a kid on Christmas morning. The nerve...
Half-asleep, I hear him in the kitchen, making the first pot of coffee. Water rattles the pipes. He flips the switch on the wall — and Thwock! — we have instant flames in the fireplace.
The smell of coffee drifts through the house to the bedroom, coaxing me to stir. Slowly, I wake to a brand-new day — this one, right here, which holds a surprise yet to be unwrapped.
Before my feet hit carpet, I ask the same question I’ve asked for several years: “What are we doing today, Lord?”
It’s how I want to live the day — awake to things on God’s to-do list.
But first, an act of God: He pulls me to my feet. And didn’t someone once say that every journey begins with a single first step?
So by the grace of a holy and benevolent — and humorous!–God (you should see my morning hair), my feet hit the floor. And I take this step, my first step, a grand and glorious movement toward AWAKE.
Many Fridays, I join Lisa-Jo as we write for five minutes flat on a word that she picks each week. This week’s word: AWAKE.
She asks people to write “for fun, for love of the sound of words, for play, for delight, for joy and celebration at the art of communication.”