If I could rise like the new day in quiet and stillness with joyful anticipation of God’s power holding what lay ahead, I would sing, “‘Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King and My God, For unto Thee will I pray. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord, in the morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee, and will look up.'” (Psalm 5:1-3)
But unlike my earthly father who awakened early, I roll over and enjoy a few more hours of sleep. By then the morning sun warms the dirt and the noise of cars disrupt the once-quiet air. I have missed so much.
The day begins in a rush with a promise to talk to my Savior later. I scramble to my feet mentally checking off the morning list. All sense of peace lost in the anxiousness of what the day holds.
I turn around and the afternoon sun drums a rhythm that says “Not much time left in this day. Hurry, hurry.” My pace quickens. Almost frantic, I calculate how much can be accomplished from the borrowed time of evening lights.
At last, I slip under the covers that cuddled me in the morning and whisper to my Savior, “Thank you for this day and all that was accomplished. I’ll try to meet You in the morning.”
Oh, to lift my voice in the still morning. To look up and hear Him whisper back. To sing of His love and know He holds the day ahead. My Rock, my Fortress, my Refuge. Here we will meet, and in the still, I will know that You are God.
Linking with My Daily Walk in His Grace