A restless night, a long day ahead,
I woke, finally, and moved into my morning.
Nothing felt right. The dogs were quiet.
The coffee was not my morning delight.
A hard worked Tuesday, laid me low.
All afternoon and evening, the body felt worn.
I expected a return to normal. Today.
But, friend, my today, this morning, it is not my friend.
The irritants flood. Nothing feels right.
The joy you feel any other time. Poof! Gone.
Get up on the wrong side of bed? No.
But something doesn’t feel right.
Tolerate it. I’ve learned.
The best way to get through is to just keep moving.
This morning I thought about all the previous times I’ve studied and shared about those from scripture with a morning spent in prayer. They sure didn’t spend it on the internet, or watching the tragic and pitiful news. No morning newspaper. I’m not even sure coffee was something they prayed was good.
No timepieces to set the stage. No alarms, except maybe a rooster?
Just after Lot’s wife became a pillar of salt, Abraham went early in the morning to the place where he had stood before the Lord. He’s waiting on the news. He sees the smoking furnaced remains afar. Sodom. Gomorrah. God has destroyed. Abraham sees, but he’s still awaiting results. (Genesis 19:24-29)
I contrast this thought with another early morning rising.
Mary, Mary, and Salome took spices to the tomb to complete the anointing of Jesus’ body. But there’s a stone? Who will help us? It’s the first day of the week (our Sunday) and it before dawn. Very early. (Mark 16:1-4)
Now I check out my attitude. Take a reading on my issues. What’s going on? Maybe it’s my spirit thinking something is happening and I’m awaiting the news.
Why do I feel this? Because, this morning was not my friend.
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