Daybreak

Either by genetic disposition or maternal training I am a morning person. For the first part, I just seem to wake up and feel ready to get up. For the second part, our house marched from front door through living room, dining room, and ended in a perpendicular kitchen across the back. The other half of the house was two bedrooms, a bath, and a sleeping porch. When one came in the front door, an unmade bed or a sleeping teenager was immediately visible, and heaven forbid that either should be noted by friend or stranger. Factor in that those early hours were probably the best of South Louisiana in summer. Humidity hadn’t kicked in, and to quote a line from a book I am reading, “darkness was beginning to lighten with a touch of pearl as morning broke.”

With this as a backstory, I have spent my life training to live alone until about 8:00. Morning chores were much as yours are now. Some days I had to make starch (look it up on the internet) and put clothes mother had already washed on the line. Though the years there was always breakfast and organizing what needed to go to school as a student or a teacher. Once dressed and out in the world, choices seemed to vanish under what life required.

Now, it is pure pleasure that mornings are mine. Remember last week’s Rutina? I am in charge. Push the start on the coffee pot and peel a banana. Walk out to get the paper. Sit at the computer and do the NYT Mini Puzzle (not Wordle). I learn words like torus as the shape for a donut. Pour coffee and settle in my rocking chair with needs for being close at hand like a child with favorite toys. A list gives purpose to the day ahead even if rearranged during coming hours. I pray over what is coming and remind myself what day it is by name and date. The coffee cup is drained. Objects are restacked. I stand up and stretch. Today is at hand and tomorrow awaits.

A new day will dawn on us from above because our God is loving and merciful.

Luke 1:78