Monday, February 28, 2011

The starter pistol....

sounded off at 5:00 a.m. and I wearily dragged my bones out of bed. Downstairs was quiet except for the cats' vain hope that I would feed them an hour and a half early. They prowled around with infinite expectation. Smashed again as I ignored them.

An hour spent thinking, praying, reading and remembering. Fixing things in my mind with the end result that day after day I am shown inadequate. Taking things into my heart with the sweet gift that day after day He is more than adequate. Praying He would unite heart and mind beyond feeling, beyond the vague and plant feet into practice, hands into service.

Six a.m. seemed the right time to slip back into bed beside warm Husband. He was gone this past weekend on a fishing trip. Spoons reunited. Both of us too drowsy and too uncaring to set the alarm again.

Next waking from insistent cats and bedroom window light. I think I heard the school bus beeping at 6:35 a.m. I always feel sorry for the little girls next door. Sorrier for the Mom.

Finally, finally, finally. Time's insistence that Monday was here became too loud. Up and at'em is the rally call, but let's tread softly and tenderly with one another today is the reality.

Monday, Monday. You're here. I'm out of bed. Please be gentle with us.


  1. This is a great example of something written well Elle! How are your boys doing with their writing expressions? If they take after you I'd give them an A+

  2. I love those quiet moments with the Lord before anyone else is awake, then crawling back into bed for a nap before the house wakes up. Beautifully expressed.