Writer. Mom. Daydreamer. Dog's Best Friend.
I wish you could see this corner of my world this morning. My porch swing is shielded from my neighbor’s home by a red maple and tulip magnolia- both are big trees for their species and just gorgeous. A variety of hostas are flourishing happily beneath the canopy of the trees. Catmint softens one side of the rock walk. My millstone fountain bubbles peacefully on the other. Little birds are stopping by for a drink.
A blanket of fog is rapidly receding before the advance of the warm, golden rays of the sunrise that are just now ebbing around the back of the house. Soft shadows grace the head of St. Francis as he stands a silent sentry over my little garden.
And I am reminded that morning is a gift.
I have a confession to make- I used to feel this weird, warped guilt about stealing this quiet time in the morning in which I meet with God and allow Him to touch my heart. It seemed indulgent somehow.
I heard a sermon a couple of weeks ago that changed my perspective on it. Fr. Kenny Benge, St. John’s Anglican, spoke on Romans and the desires that lie within each of our hearts. He said that as created beings who inhabit time and space, we need to be aware that our routines either reorient our hearts toward God or lure them away from Him.
We need sacred habits.
So here, in the morning, I joyfully embrace my sacred routine. Scripture in hand. Heart wide open. Surrendered to the love if a great, great God.
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Psalm 90:14