Mornings. I am not a morning person. In all my years of being mommy, I still haven’t mastered the morning routine. I start the morning with a prayer…
please put Your plans in front of mine today
That about covers it ~ and I have bucket full of plans for the day…
Then, as happens sometimes, the first words are a grumble. The grumble is returned with a sharp tongue, and so it begins… the stomach churning ride up and down… the ride of emotions… frustration, anger, followed by apologies… short time passes, then more of the ride. Splatters of laughter sprinkled between the pokes and jabs. A day of many plans, too short time, even shorter temper, and the focus… blurs.
Crying, whining, gnashing of teeth (mostly mom’s)… and the picture of domesticity loses perspective. The big picture ~ the God focus ~ gets lost in my plans.
The wish to start over… start fresh… a “morning re-do.”
Small arms wrap all around ~ longing for the same… turn back the clocks ~ reclaim the stolen hour, taken to welcome the spring. The little arms, like an octopus, wrapping around mama’s frustrations and squeezing. Mother angst has no choice but to release under that much pressure… the forgiveness so freely given, the embracing tentacles wrapping and unwrapping… unwrapping a new start.
That’s when God answers… when the plan is taken from my will… squeezed into His. These God moments, they can not be predicted… a “re-do”… a message carried by a dear friend… sending words for the soul. The words from Him ~ a sudden jolt to focus…
Psalm 143:8
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
The morning comes… sometimes in the middle of the day.
