Monday, September 14, 2015

the sweetest hours

I love mornings.  I haven't always appreciated them, but as I strolled the neighborhood this morning, coffee in one hand and a dog leash in the other, I realized I've come to know the early morning as one of the best things about being alive on planet earth.  There's just something about a morning that draws one out of oneself- the gaze of the heart is up and out, hope rising with the light.   

I don't remember much about mornings as a kid, but I do remember Saturday mornings:  pajamas, the Smurfs, and blanket forts well before my parents woke.  I must have been like my kids are now- early risers, too much fomo to linger in bed for too long.  As a child, mornings were beautiful.  But teenage growth hormone turned me from an eager beaver into a sluggish morning monster and sadly, mornings became my nemesis. I remember sitting on the couch watching the Weather Channel (our Dent family routine), wondering how I could will myself to get moving much less have a good attitude while doing it.  Granted, my relationship with sleep has always been tumultuous, but dysania became the norm and for many years, I never met a morning I enjoyed. 

But you do what you have to do when you have to do it, so all those years in college and grad school and marriage and work, I got up when I absolutely had to.  And then I had babies. 


There's nothing like having sleepless babies to mess with your sleep schedule.  I might have been up at 5:00 am in those days, but if I was, it wasn't pretty.

And coffee.  So much coffee.

Of course, God was faithful and good to me in that season.  He saw me through it, but kids grow and I find myself in a new season, able to go to bed early and rise early.  I spent a couple of years praying about how I could do that and it has finally happened.  I'm just now realizing that not only are these early mornings a sweet gift from God, they are also an answer to prayer.  Kind of like the slice of cake after a big healthy meal, a late night has lost its luster and I've traded it for the beauty of the cool morning air, the rising sun, and the quiet heralding of a new day.  I'm able to meet my waking children with a smile and a kiss and mornings are now my new favorite- a gift that had just been sitting there, waiting to be unopened and enjoyed.  Mornings are beautiful again, but maybe even better than I remember.

So set your alarm and give my new friend Early Morning a chance.  She's a beauty.

I've come to learn that the sweetest hours are the morning ones. 

1 comment:

lifeinthevillage said...

Oh my friend. How I would love this. And so appreciate your testimony- the struggle is real, but you have overcome!