Thursday, August 25, 2011

Early Morning Journal. . .

 (I’ll be back with the high school posts soon. My kids and I are discussing what I should share in the posts and what I should not. I don’t want to invade their privacy or open any more of their lives to the world than they want me to, so I’m just making sure everyone is comfortable. . . But I’ll have more soon!)

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This morning was quiet and lovely. The sun didn’t make a bright and snappy appearance, but snuck in quietly with a few clouds. It set the mood for a still, contemplative morning. I took some early morning photos, and I wrote in my journal. I’ll share both the photos and the opening words of today’s journal entry here. I love the moments of morning when the sky is brightening but not yet full-on sunny.

Thursday, August 25, 2011
Early morning

“I rose at 5:00 but not with the sun because it was still dark. I was tempted to climb back into bed for “just a few more minutes,” but I know what that means (not waking again til far later than I want to be up and about), so I didn’t. Once I started to move, I was glad I was up. As usual, I enjoyed the morning silence, when muffled faraway sounds reach me across the stillness and the floor feels cool beneath my feet—extra nice on these muggy days.

“I opened windows, and the cool, refreshing air from outside quickly overcame the warm, stale air inside. When the day began to brighten, I walked through the rooms of the house to have a look, and I stepped out the open front door to welcome the sun—the front stoop is the first part of the house to be touched by morning light—but the sun is muted this morning by patchy clouds.

“Last night, after dark, I heard water running, like a shower. It took me a minute to realize that it was rain. Rain?! It had been a hot, humid day—so humid, I guess, that the sky had to dump some of its moisture.

“I like early mornings—even muted mornings like today. They’re lovely with hope and promise and God’s mercies. Always fresh and cool before the heat and noise of the day drive away the newness. But tomorrow there will be another morning to savor if I will embrace it. And I will.

“I thank God for His gifts. For light, fresh air, restoration—the daily creation of newness. For a house to call home. For little flowers and morning coffee. For books, for friends. For strength and breath. Mostly, I thank Him for His mercies; they are new every morning, and I feel it. I know it. And each morning, my love for Him is renewed and refreshed, too.”

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope.
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed
for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning.
Great is your faithfulness.”
~Lamentations 3:22, 23


Have a beautiful day!


  1. 'The daily creation of newness'. I liked that particularly. It does feel like a gift.

  2. You make me want to be a morning person.

  3. I'm thinking what a gift it will be to your children some day when they can read all the loveliness of their mother's soul in your journals. Beautiful photos, Susan.

  4. Thank you, Lucille. It does indeed seem like a gift!

    the momma--:-) My grandpa made me want to be a morning person. I still think of him early in the morning.

    Cathleen, what a really nice thing to say. And thank you so much!

  5. Susan, I love light. It is probably my biggest requirement for a home. I was never one to cover windows with heavy drapes. In fact most of my windows have sheers or lace valances or are bare. I love the different qualities of light. Morning light is clear, fresh, new. And I love how your photos captured that. Evening light is rich, still. I can always tell before I even get out of bed and look out the window when we've had our first snowfall during the night, because the room is whiter, brighter. Anyway, I loved your photos.