Looking Up in the Morning

Morning.
"In the morning, O Lord, you hear my voice;
in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation."
Psalm 5:3

When I was a child, I slept little. I remember getting up first, at a loss as to what I could do, feeling alone in our quiet house. Later, as a teenager, spending the night with friends, I'd wake up long before others. As a young mother, our babies would wake me up and if not for many night feedings and a recovering body, I may not have dreamed of delicious sleep ins. No, getting up to nurse them in the wee hours was adventuresome. I felt a bit like I was in a new land, the land of sleep and my baby's hungry suckling made me feel like a different person, a citizen of the night. So, during that period, I did not enjoy quiet mornings of journaling, praying, reading about Jesus. I have discovered the replenishment that supernaturally occurs overnight. Mom was right, "Things seem less pressing in the morning." So, I come to Jesus then. I make my requests known to Him and then I wait in expectation.

Pondering "morning" certain locations came to mind.

When I remember past mornings, I think of Malibu Club. For our first ten years of marriage (and beyond, really) we spent at least three weeks at this remote location in British Columbia, Canada. The camp was originally built to lure wealthy Americans with a taste for the exotic. Wealthy prospective guests couldn't keep it afloat so Young Life (nondenominational Christian outreach program for teenagers) bought it and still owns it. It is only accessible by boat or sea plane. Our children have the most vivid and precious memories of their time here. I can still hear the sound of my feet on the boardwalks (and the sound of the baby stroller) and I can smell the dining hall and the Totem Inn where the children ate their breakfast. I'd pop into the serving area, help myself to a cup of coffee and journey back to our cold, little cabin to build a fire. All around us, kids from every part of the U.S. and Canada were playing, laughing, hearing about Jesus and experiencing care and concern beyond what they could encounter at home in the confusing world of adolescence. The hand of the Creator is so apparent there.

Hawaii

Last summer, I went to Hawaii to visit Jeff. He was an excellent tour guide and the first morning I was there, we got up very early to drive out to an Oahu beach to watch the sun rise. It was a blissful and yet pensive morning. There were already surfers about and the sand was cold on my feet. Yes, the morning is a magical time, especially at the sea.

This morning, I'm watching the birds at the feeder, I'm alone (Bill and Jeff went to run an early morning errand for Kelli) and I'm in love with the smell of my house. It smells like coffee, peonies (I'm still sneezing), and us. Sheets are in the dryer (no time to hang them out on the line!) and I'm preparing our guest room for one of Jeff's college friends. I'll scrub the bathroom, vacuum the carpet, fluff the bed, and then I want to go outside and feel the morning for a while. I might water the flowers, enjoy a cup of tea and breathe a few more prayers to my Savior.