Morning
In the morning, the Eastern light pokes through the blinds above our bed and dances around our comforter - but my eyes are rarely open enough to enjoy it. It's not until I've dragged myself to the shower and let the water run over my face for a minute or two that I am treated to this little bit of happy.
With the bathroom door positioned just so, the sun shining through the blinds creates a vertical line of oval dots on the door that I can see from the shower and I decided this morning: I adore morning light.
I know it's cliche. Who doesn't love morning light? There are countless songs and poems written about morning light. I think, probably, you have to be a pretty grumpy person - or a teenager - to not love morning light.
I'm fascinated by how the softness of the light in the morning immediately transports me back to childhood Saturdays. I associate the streaming sunshine with lazy days, full of potential. The house moved slower on the weekends. We'd maybe have an early game, but the same light would follow us to the park - now glistening on the dew-covered outfield. The morning light would have woken up the birds whose songs seemed only to be heard through the family room window, as background noise behind Saturday morning cartoons.
What a cool God we serve, who would choose such a tender way to wake up his world every morning. Rather than a blinding flash or physical jolt or whack on the head, he gently rolls the earth over and allows the sun to creep above the horizon. It spills over the oceans, climbs up the trees, transforms mountainous darkness into illuminated peaks that point to the Creator...every. single. morning.
If you ask me what I like about homeschooling, I will tell you: I like morning. This light, these lazy-but-potential-filled mornings are not mere weekend perks but every day realities for my kids right now. They have time, every morning, to allow God's light to wake them...to hear the birdsong and to wonder what is in store for today. Right now, we don't have to wake up every morning already on the hamster wheel - before the light creeps in, too busy to hear the birds. Right now we can wake up and be reminded of his mercies, which are new every morning.
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”
Lamentations 3:22-24
With the bathroom door positioned just so, the sun shining through the blinds creates a vertical line of oval dots on the door that I can see from the shower and I decided this morning: I adore morning light.
I know it's cliche. Who doesn't love morning light? There are countless songs and poems written about morning light. I think, probably, you have to be a pretty grumpy person - or a teenager - to not love morning light.
I'm fascinated by how the softness of the light in the morning immediately transports me back to childhood Saturdays. I associate the streaming sunshine with lazy days, full of potential. The house moved slower on the weekends. We'd maybe have an early game, but the same light would follow us to the park - now glistening on the dew-covered outfield. The morning light would have woken up the birds whose songs seemed only to be heard through the family room window, as background noise behind Saturday morning cartoons.
What a cool God we serve, who would choose such a tender way to wake up his world every morning. Rather than a blinding flash or physical jolt or whack on the head, he gently rolls the earth over and allows the sun to creep above the horizon. It spills over the oceans, climbs up the trees, transforms mountainous darkness into illuminated peaks that point to the Creator...every. single. morning.
If you ask me what I like about homeschooling, I will tell you: I like morning. This light, these lazy-but-potential-filled mornings are not mere weekend perks but every day realities for my kids right now. They have time, every morning, to allow God's light to wake them...to hear the birdsong and to wonder what is in store for today. Right now, we don't have to wake up every morning already on the hamster wheel - before the light creeps in, too busy to hear the birds. Right now we can wake up and be reminded of his mercies, which are new every morning.
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”
Lamentations 3:22-24
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