A new day dawning…


Sun Glow

I’m not usually up early. Dawn isn’t my time to shine. But from my sleeplessness the stillness of a dewy Monday morning draws me, and I quietly slide open the patio door and slip outside. The deck boards are cool under my bare feet and I tug my robe closer in the early chill. Birds are just beginning their morningsong, greeting the sun with birdy chirps from hidden perches deep in the trees. A hummingbird buzzes past for his first guzzle of the day.


Mixed with the happiness of visiting family, there is a wistfulness to this new day… a stray reminder that tugs from the darkness. A praise song from yesterday’s worship service bubbles to mind and soothes in the silence:

The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning
It’s time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes

Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I’ll worship Your holy name *

Whether it’s another new week, a brand new day, a fresh new moment — or all three — the newness allows for starting over. Today’s beginning is not like yesterday’s or tomorrow’s but is a now opportunity for which to be thankful.

“In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

1 Thessalonians 5:18


In the glow of this Monday morning I find a sturdy beauty. The day will burst open whether the world is ready for it or not, and there is blessing in that continuity.

FushiaI will settle into more writing later today, but not now. I tiptoe back inside and slide the door closed. The warmth of my bed beckons and I’m going to cuddle down for another two hours. When the rest of the household awakens I will join them, refreshed and ready to welcome the joy of today.

But first I’ll need to withstand the temptation to warm my chilly feet on my sleeping hubby’s backside!

~  ~  ~

*10,000 Reasons

(Matt Redman)


NaNoWriMo – Getting SET…



I know you’ve heard of getting all one’s ducks in a row, but hummingbirds are ferocious little things. I only need one of them. Beak is quite singular. There isn’t a whole row of him. I’m getting set for Sunday’s NaNoWriMo kick off and he alone perches atop my monitor, ready to peck at any ill-intentioned inner critic that may emerge during November to ridicule my writing.

Beak’s brutal in his role of protector. Really, he is! If you don’t believe me just lean in a little closer and sneer a bit. Be prepared to duck because he wields that beak like a two-edged sword. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s poised to strike. (What? You think he looks like a little softie? Shhhhhh! Puleeeease don’t say that too loudly. I have to keep the IC at bay for an entire month.)