I have never been a morning person. I love the way I feel in bed. I love to burrow deeper into the covers. I love to hold really still so that I can stay in the warm spot in the bed. I love the way you can hear your own heart beating if the room is quiet enough. I love drifting in and out of sleep, knowing that you can linger here as long as you want because there is nothing waiting for you to get up.
All these feelings are now memories. Now, I get up before the sun. I have three alarms set so that I am able to begrudgingly peel back the covers. Do I have some high-power job to rush off to? Must I head out to feed the livestock and water the fields so that we are sure to have a healthy harvest? Does my commute take me hours from home? No.
I simply get up for me. For Valerie. For the sake of the completed sentence. For coffee with the love of my life before the girls wake. For drinking a whole cup of coffee before it gets cooled down. For getting my thoughts down “on paper”. For a shower where no one comes in to ask if I could make her breakfast “right now”. For a quick glance at the mountain that has to get moved each day one appointment, to-do list, or homeschool assignment at a time. For the stillness of the house. For the silence in which prayer gets accomplished and listening for answers is attempted.
All of these things make sanity possible. All of these focus me and gather up my me-ness so that I can function, teach, drive, advocate, shop, cook, encourage, intercede, meal plan, correspond, tidy the home, and move that mountain by marking off one task at a time.