I am not a morning person. Not even the tiniest bit. And though I absolutely love to see my adorable, wriggly, gurgling baby in the morning when he first wakes, it can be a little bit of a chore to force myself out of my cavewoman-like slumber and over to the other side of the house for Spencer's early morning feedings. It's usually done with one eye half open and the other eye sealed completely shut. (If you have ever seen me smile, you know that this is not a difficult feat for me.)
This morning I stumbled from our dark room into the bright hallway just in time to see the remarkable beginnings of a most beautiful sunrise from our upstairs windows. I felt like it was just for me, this shiny piece of heaven, especially when I went outside for a better glimpse and truly felt that I was the only one there to really enjoy it.
A thankful prayer pounded in my heart as I thought about the promise of this new, pristine day, as yet unsullied by stress or negativity or trial. In that moment, I could enjoy this beauty on its own unique terms and silently commit myself to enjoying more moments with my children, ignoring the unimportant, and taking more time to focus on the elusive moments of my life that are slowly but surely slipping through my unwilling fingers.
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