Morningtime

winter-hey
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I wake up in the morning and remember You.
You give me a breath and I roll out of bed
I look to the sky and You’re singing me a song
 /
A Million tiny notes from heaven drift past my window
They soften the whole world in great white heaps
I can’t fathom the mass and the detail
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I try to remember Your height, but it’s too high
I try to think on Your character, but it’s too vast
I try to see Your face, but it’s too beautiful
 /
You’re that calm, vital, solid feeling of joy in my stomach
It could burst out and destroy me, but it just stays
Strong, Alive, Ever-Changing, Ever-Same
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Writing Exercise | Day 7

Today I noticed that a lot of the people I like the most laugh a lot. I think I don’t laugh enough. Sometimes I’m too tired or I think the joke is too lame or that the humor isn’t smart enough. But the funny thing is, is that when I put those things aside and just laugh, if only for the sake of the other person, I feel better and I laugh easier. I feel more connected to the people around me and I’m more relaxed and focused on them instead of me. There’s no good reason not to laugh, except for silly ones stemming from pride or selfishness. So laugh easily and often, it might make your world a little bit of a better place. 
(I know there should be a cautionary clause about inappropriate jokes, jokes that poke fun at people in a hurtful way etc, but I think we all know that already.)

Writing Exercise | Day 6

Today I noticed how very very wonderful God is. I had such a fabulous evening and it started out with me being stressed and sad and a bit angry. But then I began driving my route for Rise and as I picked up the kids I slowly began to forget myself and enjoy the wonderful people I had in my load. Our worship time was so full of joy and several of the kids glowed in awe and worship that was incredible to see. Minute by minute God poured out little blessings throughout the evening that snowballed into a huge ball of love. By the end of the evening it was just an explosion of joy in my chest that made me wish I could scream in a beautiful way. I’m so undeserving. But yet God chose to give me all these gifts.  As if He hadn’t filled me to the bursting, after church I enjoyed nasty wings with the delicious company and laughed until I couldn’t breathe. What. How even is God so kind and generous? Scuse my lapse into teenagese but I rly can’t even. 

Writing Exercise | Day 5

Today I noticed the how satisfying it is to take a total wrinkle ball wad of cloth and make it clean and crisp and smooth. I kind of wish I could do that with my life. It feels like I’m doing more of thing where while you’re ironing out one wrinkle you turn around and magically you’ve ironed in a totally knew one. But I guess that’s kind of the point. I shouldn’t be trying to fix my life. I should be flexible and soft and tender and let God taking care of shaping me. You would think one of these days I would learn that. 

Writing Exercise | Day 4

I apologize that I didn’t get this posted yesterday. 

Today I noticed how lovely it can be to care for living things. I was making the watering rounds so I knew every where I was supposed to water while Mom and Dad are gone later this month and at first I was impatient. I wanted to get on to other work and I sipped the hose from pot to pot. Then I realized I had to take my time cause the sudden burst or water was soaking some of the flowers leaving them a bedraggled mess. So I slowed down and suddenly, I began to notice things. The hot sun smiling down on my head, the contrast between the warm cement and the cold water on my toes, and the joyful heads of the flowers bobbing and smiling made me realize how very far off I was living. I moved back and forth between the flowers trying to give them the moisture they neede without drowning or attacking them and I had a thought. Perhaps all my work would be beautiful if I would slow down and live where I am.

Writing Exercise | Day 3

Today I noticed the importance of being present with those around you. We visited my great aunt Judy on her deathbed today. I say we visited her, but we really visited her husband and children. We didn’t talk about much of anything important or remarkable, we even sat in comfortable silence several times. But we weren’t there to say things. We were there to be there. To acknowledge that even though this is common and sacred part of our lives, it is still hard. It is the earthly end of so much love and life and history. We were there to show them that we are here, we are available, and we care. We are bound together loosely in blood, tighter in community and culture, but most closely in common adoption. Their pain is our pain. It is times like this I feel very small,  a tiny part in the great, big church. But the smallness isn’t frustrating or discouraging. It’s empowering to know I’m one of many tiny parts, and I have my specific job and part to play. But if I mess up, there’s so much grace and help, and I’m only a tiny part.