Morning Prayers

O God, I marvel that no two mornings are ever quite the same despite my routine:

That no single day is without its surprises;
That no least happening is beyond your knowledge;
That no ordinary task I have to do is outside your interest;
That no situation which poses a problem is beyond your solution;
That no distance is too far, though 'I take the wings of the morning';
That no isolation need spell loneliness, though 'I dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea';
That no sinful act of mine can put me outside your love and forgiveness and restoration.

Give me the courage I need today to face up to anything I'm afraid of.
Give me conscientiousness about every part of the work entrusted to me.
Give me a spirit of cheer and friendliness. For Your sake.

Amen

Rita Snowden - A Woman's Book of Prayers

Indeed, despite my routine of beginning here, praying by lamplight, it is but momentary and fleeting.

Soon, little feet come stumbling down the hall, sleep being rubbed away by sweaty little fists. A fragrant hug and whispered, "Good morning" begins the day for all. (Rotate with any number of morning catastrophes - wet pajama bottoms, lost teeth, fevers, poopy diapers and crib sheets...)

We'll dress and pull the sheets straight, adjust the stuffed animals so they sit in a tidy row, then sit at the table, where homemade granola and corn flakes make their regular appearance. The chants of catechism rise heavenward, as do the wisps of smoke from a no-longer-needed lantern wick. (Or, jammies stay on; breakfast is skipped to run out the door on errand day; a rowdy boy requires discipline during Bible time with Daddy...)

School will begin with soft music playing in the background, a snack of apples and raisins within reach. The phone is ignored during test time, and the baby plays quietly with her dolls and playhouse. (Or school is delayed while Mama digs out from the night before; she hits play on the stereo and "A Spoonful of Sugar" pours out instead of Fernando Ortega; an important phone call comes in and the children see this as an opportunity - to play; the baby, having been swatted for dumping the dvd's six times, cries inconsolably until Mama holds her while trying to write lesson plans for tomorrow...)

This is just the first part of the morning.

Yes, the days are as varied as the spring weather that is blown across the sky by April's wind. I must remember not to plan too far ahead, for the wrinkles popping up along the path are sure to become waves if I hold too tightly to a plan.

I wouldn't have it any other way, would you? And I am so thankful for His knowledge, His interest, His forgiveness, restoration, and presence.

I must go. It is time for another un-typical day to begin. Oh, may I allow Him to carry me through it, to navigate those wrinkles and waves with me, and may my spirit of cheer be unshaken.