I love morning. I always have. When I go to bed at night, I often wish it was already morning. Many of you are probably rolling your eyes, and my husband is rolling them right along with you. My husband cannot understand my love affair with mornings. We still laugh about our life when we were first married. As soon as the sun came up I would be bouncing on the bed in an attempt to wake him up to explore the world with me. I have since learned that just because I am fond of mornings, does not mean my slumber loving husband is equally as fond. Now I let him sleep while I get up and meet God and greet the world.
Each season has its own delicious morning beauty, enhanced by a steaming mug of hot coffee.
In the spring I am so thankful that there is no snow and I wrap in a quilt and sit on my porch just admiring the waking of the world after a long winters nap. I note the buds on the trees and the warming of the soil and the anticipation of planting my garden fills me with joyful impatience.
In the summer, I wake early with the sun and with coffee in hand step outside and just breathe deep lung-fulls of Montana air. Its all mountain and pine, cottonwood and earth, and a sweetness I have never experienced anywhere else. I watch my garden grow in the summer, always in awe of God's gifts that grow from a tiny little seed.
Autumn mornings greet me with glorious color, woodsmoke and the magic of seeing my breath while wrapped in my quilt. Sunrise in the colorful contrast of autumn is one of my very favorite things.
Winter mornings are something unique. I enjoy them from my kitchen window. A cozy tucked away feeling comes over me as I observe the stark cold landscape and curl up in the bliss of being safe and warm inside my precious home.
I am thankful for mornings. All things are new. All things are possible in the morning. I see them as manifestations of God's grace. His mercies are new each day.