Written after Psalm 90:41
“Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.”
Today’s morning was like a low singing wind. It emerged from faint and steadily grew closer, and bigger, and then present, and then vigorously freeing. Awoken with a love song being written on my shoulder’s sharpest point, then words tracing down and finding their way into each little pore. Each little well filling slowly. Each one sweet as a sunny peach. Each one melting onto me like caramel.
You ever have a day like that? A time when you come to consciousness and flicker your eyes open at the exact moment That God smoothes His way next to your half sweaty cheek? Where you say good morning to His presence and He just continues to give you honey-comb words. He says, “good morning, good morning my love. Good morning, good morning my treasure.” And you sort of float up out of your blankets, maybe you’re still in your socks, and you grin like an idiot toward that light you feel everywhere.
And that time you were late and everyone looked when you walked in, and that time you resented your friend for that comment about you acting like a do-gooder-wretch, and that time your mother told you you’re still the brat you were when you were 12, and the time you just sat in your car screaming and crying and clawing at the wheel because all you felt about yourself was that you disappoint everyone and always do mediocre work and everyone sees it, everyone sees how much effort it takes you to stay positive, so really it’s not positive at all, you’re just laying your burdens out like dirty laundry and making everyone uncomfortable, and the LIST and the List and the list, and the list – it ceases.
Your thoughts that usually gush up like over-boiled milk just stop. And your ears, your eyes, your head down to your fingertips and your socked toes, they just…
Stand still, curtains drawn and He’s there behind them with you in that dim yellowy light. Affectionately quiet, tremendous calm.
He says, “I am.”
He says, “Be still.”
And even your breath has become more silent than the understanding in a look between a long-standing husband and wife.
Nothing enters your mind. Everything leaves it, but there is a soft stirring in you that could be like fireflies. Glowing and illuminating their bouyant paths. It’s so subtle,
you have to be stopped and pulled away to be aware of it.
This beautiful hymn begins to sing inside you.
And you join in, the beginning of the vesper that will be rolling on inside you past when the sun sets. You slowly come to, not like the empty snail shell you were when you woke up, dry and easy to crack. You emerge to greet the day as a servant, a warrior, as one who will run with lions.
A Juliet, a darling, an affection made out of dust, and grateful for each step taken. For each day that is an alm given into our beggar hands.
Realizing the gift and being glad to patiently unwrap each leaf with eyes beaming toward the One who placed it in front of you.