My mornings keep me grounded. They remind me that as much as I think I am or would like to be, I’m not in control of everything. But they also remind me that grace abounds in all things.
Like in my husband who wakes me up gently because I ignored all three alarms on my iPhone (hello snooze).
Or my oldest daughter who comes and gives me a hug, tells me she loves me, and sits and stares lovingly at her sister before anything else.
And my littlest love who lays beside me or makes her way into my arms and lays there for a few moments, while I listen to her breathe and reflect on how precious this season is.
My mornings are humbling. They show me that perhaps the mountains of yesterday were molehills after all. Or perhaps they aren’t. What they are, however; is climbable. One step at a time, of course. But still climbable. My reasons to keep climbing are all around me.
They remind me that the storm is subsiding, and the sun is meeting the horizon. And they give me just enough to remind me that I am enough. That the life I live is more than enough, and in fact it’s everything I ever dreamed of. And it’s mine.
This family is mine. They are my home and I am theirs.
My family is well loved and our new day is here. Another chance to live and love — together.
I doubt I will ever truly be a morning person, but I’ve come to love them so much. The early stretch — the few moments of calm before the chaos as we run into the day. The stillness — halted by love and affection.
What is your favorite time of day with your family?