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Before the holidays, since mid-October, I had made the habit of rising early, before the sun, to meet with my Savior.
Alas, now, not so much. Oh, but I remember the mornings when I crept quietly down the stairs, padding down the hallway, making my way across the cold kitchen floor. I warmed my tea. I settled into my chair, my blanket wrapped tight around my shoulders. And I enjoyed the stillness of the house before any other person even thought about stirring. It gave me a moment to gather myself before I rushed off into the day. It gave me a process of centering myself so that I might be more equipped to handle the obstacles and challenges that might fill my day. It gave me a chance to leave my slumbering, but to still find rest in the arms of my God.
I have missed Him in the mornings. Although I can still find Him in the daytime, I have to be honest -- our time is interrupted often. I often feel the pressure to do something else - run, work, write, respond. In the wee hours, though, it is dedicated just to Him.
Reminiscing about our early morning conversations makes me realize that while any time with Him is a simple pleasure, it's nice to meet Him at the beginning, before the world has the time to enter in. It's a sacred space carved out for just the two of us.
I will be joining Him tomorrow, before the light hits the ground, before the little voices fill my day, before the demands threaten to overwhelm. Me and Him. Him and me.
I'm linking up with Dayle at Simple Pleasures.