A perfect morning


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Golden Hour.”

The prompt asked, “6:00 AM: the best hour of the day, or too close to your 3:00 AM bedtime?”

My alarm goes off at 5:30 am on the mornings that I haven’t already turned it off and began my day.  Sometimes I grumble to myself as I stumble into the bathroom to begin my morning routine.  My last stop in on the way to the kitchen or should I say on the way to my Keurig, is at my scale, which is something I’ve done for so many years, it’s a more of a habit than anything.  It’s reading doesn’t make any difference in my mood; it just lets me know if I should lighten things up.

Coffee done, in goes the sugar and half and half; some things I just will not give up! Holding one of the lovely cups given to me by friends who know my love of coffee and tea, I make my way to my favorite spot.  Before I sit, I open the blinds where I can watch God display the colors of a morning sunrise.  The birds are waking too and sing to their Creator with unabashed fervor.

After sufficient sips of hot java, and enough blinking where my eyes begin to see clearly, on go my cheaters and my bible is opened and on my lap.  Feet up and feeling so peaceful, I began to receive my daily spiritual nourishment.  After prayer and meditation on the Word, my day can continue with me feeling strengthened and ready to take on anything.

At some point in my morning, usually a bit later, my husband wakes up and comes to find me to give me a morning hug and kiss.  This happens every morning without fail unless one of us is travelling and it is one of the highlights of my day.  I smile when I hear him walking toward me, thankful that this is still our reality after 21 years as husband and wife.

I have described the perfect morning at my house.  It varies from time to time, but if any of this is missing, the day seems to sputter and I falter and things just don’t go as smooth.  Yes, for me, the perfect morning is described above.

Opportunities are like sunrises, if you wait too long, you miss them.

William Arthur Ward

Worry doesn’t change anything


The Prompt:  If you could permanently get rid of one worry, what would it be?

I don’t believe in worry.  Yes, I know we all have our moments, but I choose not to let worry control me.  There are times I battle with it, but if I give it to God, the fear dissipates. It was a lesson that was hard to learn, but when you realize it’s useless, it becomes easier to let it go.  I wrote a short story to show how I feel about worry.

It was getting late and the Browns were getting ready to turn in for the night.  Faith Brown was humming a hymn as she removed the excess pillows and turned down the sheets.  Her husband, Wori Brown grunted as he stalked past her on his way to the bathroom.

Faith shook herself out of her slippers and tossed her robe at the bottom of the bed.  She kneeled by the bed and said a prayer, then climbed into bed and snuggled into the warm covers, thankful for a safe, comfortable home.

Wori needed to go to bed as 5:30 came early, but there was just too much on his mind.  He paced through the house a few times trying to figure out what to do about the shortage in the checking account.  He was overwrought with concern over some choices their adult son was making. He wondered what he could do or say to get his son to listen to reason.  He was stressed about the way he had spoken to his favorite employee today at work.  By the time he finally made it to the bedroom, Faith was fast asleep.  He tossed and turned and awoke groggy after a fitful night’s sleep.

Faith awoke with the dawn and sat down with her coffee and her bible to start the day on the right note.  She enjoyed her coffee, read from Psalms, prayed over her family and went about her day’s tasks.

Wori gulped down his coffee, rushed out the door and hurried to work.  His mind was full of distressful thoughts throughout the day.  His stomach was bothering him and he had a headache.  Traffic was horrible and he shook his fist at a car as he sped past.  He felt his blood pressure rising as he had to wait at yet another red light.

As the sun was setting, Wori opened the front door and was greeted by calm wife who informed him that dinner was waiting.  The house was quiet and he was glad to be here.  He could smell the aroma of his favorite dish and maybe even an apple pie.  As Wori ate, he asked Faith how in the world she could stay so peaceful in the midst of such duress.  They were going through several trials in their lives and he never saw her falter in her faith.

She said, “Nothing I can do or say will change any of the situations we are facing, so I put them in the hands of God and leave them there.  When the temptation comes to worry or fret, I remind myself to think on whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, that is what I think about.

He knew she was right, so after dinner he made his way to the back porch, bible in hand.  He spent some time alone, prayed for peace and placed his frustration and feelings of inadequacy into the hands of God.  Faith joined him with a smile on her face and thankfulness in her heart, knowing that with God and each other, they could face anything.

It’s a bad day, not a bad life

Flowers in NC park

The alarm woke me up angrily as if to say there is no time to spare, not another blink of sleep is to occur on my watch!  The door reached out to clobber me in the side of my head as I dragged a less than cooperative body to the bathroom.  The water was cold as it bitterly splashed my awakening skin, and my eyes simply refused to focus properly; then the scale was particularly hateful.

Off to the kitchen where the red light on my keurig flashed impatiently, shouting, “refresh me or else”!

Finally seated in front of my computer, I attempted to begin my work day.  Of course on days like this, fingers fail to move where your mind tells them to go and logins are incorrect.

It was as if my blood pressure was rising while my patience was waning and it wasn’t yet 6:00am.

As the day schlepped on, ever so slowly, it was one irritating thing after another.  There was the way my bank (for reasons still unclear to me) locked out my online banking feature, and the only way that I could prove that I truly was who I proclaimed to be was by me knowing the amount and date of my very last transaction.

This may seem a walk in the park to you, but since I was dealing with my hubby’s business account, I knew my getting this right was as likely as him remembering to tell me he even used the card; therefore, highly unlikely.  I was so amazed when the last receipt he had thrown in a crumpled up pile on the counter actually matched.  I could have cried tears of joy!  Yes!  I had received my first miracle of the day.

Even after this turn of events, my mood continued to darken and my appetite threatened to destroy my resolve against all things unhealthy.  My husband and daughter felt the tumultuous waves of my hormonal raging.  I even had to make one apology…harrumph!

About this time one of my co-workers and I were discussing a timeline for a future fix and something she said shook my resolve to be angry today.  I made a negative comment and she said, “hey, you’re always the positive one”.  Ouch!  God was showing me, crystal clear, that my attitude needed adjusting.  But, I didn’t heed at that point; I was too deep in the yuck-mode.

Later, once I got off work and sat basking in the afternoon sun, remembering that today is my Friday, I looked back on today and actually smiled.  Okay, I admit it was one of those wimpy, embarrassed smiles, but it was a smile nonetheless.

Somehow, at that point, I quickly repented for my negativity and forced myself to realize (once again)  all that I have to be thankful for in life.  I heard the words, “it’s a bad day, not a bad life” resonate from somewhere deep within.

Yes, I can blame SOME of it on hormones, but this selfishness, thinking it’s all about me, forgetting the blessings, is something I feel I will be blogging about over and over until I get it.  And, then maybe I will continue until others get it as well.  If you’ve had a bad day, get alone somewhere quiet, say a prayer, read a verse, breath in and out and begin to count those blessings.  It will do you good!

The little, big things

Ayda and the red marker experience

Ayda and the red marker experience

This afternoon after reading Psalm 67, I just can’t help but think about all the things I have to be thankful for and how that thanks should turn into praise.  Some things we just take for granted like the fact that we woke up today.  Many didn’t.

There are so many little things that make me happy and bring me so much joy.  They seem small but if you contemplate each of them, one by one, they are really enormous gifts that life would be so dreary without.

For instance, I’m thankful for smiles in general, but especially the smiles that start way down deep inside, the ones that pass through the heart and soul and burst forth birthing more smiles.  Imagine a world where no one EVER smiled, not ever.

And what about laughter?  Laughter is such a beautiful thing, differing from person to person, but always fitting the personality.  We’ve all had those friends with the deep belly laugh, the modest snicker, the snort and the cackle.  Can you imagine the world without it?

I’m grateful for the sense of touch; the fact that I can reach out and comfort my husband or my child with a simple touch, a hug, or a kiss.  What is it about feeling that presence of another that can give you strength or courage to keep going sometimes?  I think about those denied the touch of another and how dreadful that would be.

My point in this little snippet is that we are easily thankful for the big things.  Every day, I thank God for my home and family, job and church, friends and neighbors.  The praise can get routine and not as heartfelt sometimes.  Today, I’m reminded of so many little things that are really big things and of how I take so much for granted in my very blessed life.  This is a reminder to me to be grateful for the seemingly little things and to help others to notice them too.

Be Blessed!

Mitch Teemley

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