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Morning Time


I’ve always enjoyed being a morning person. Though in the summer, I rarely catch the sunrise, I love the feeling of the new day being birthed. On those days that I am woken up early by Aria, I choose to cherish the moments where I get to watch the world waking up instead of feeling robbed of another half hour of sleep. Once I’m actually out of bed, I can’t bear the thought of losing those precious moments when, in the words of Lucy Maud Montgomery, “the world is…young again”.
Consequently, the memory that I count as my first took place in the early morning before most of the family was up. I remember wandering down the stairs in our log house in the mountains of B.C. I saw my dad standing by the back door, looking out its window onto the back yard with the woods beyond it. He beckoned me over and lifted me up. There was a black bear.

cup o’ chaiA creamy cup of chai to enjoy during my morning time.

Now from the moment I wake up, my early morning is filled with mummy-ish things to do: a diaper to change, diapers to rinse, sometimes laundry to do, a little girl to dress, oatmeal to make and coffee for John, dishes to wash. Thankfully, Aria goes down for her hour and a half morning nap between nine and ten and then I have time for myself—my morning time.
I’ve come to recognize how vitally important this time is for me and I feel its lack if I miss it. I usually brew myself a nice cup of creamy hot chai and make up something light like hot buttered toast topped with a thin layer of jam and a suedo-type clotted cream. Then I sit out on my shaded balcony looking out toward the swollen lake lined with fishermen and quiet my heart, my mind. It’s not always easy to still myself, especially if I’ve already had a busy morning or if Aria was cantankerous in going down for her nap, but it is essential or this precious time is all but wasted. This is my time to connect with God and to reflect. It usually involves a time of reading the Living Word and as I do this more and more, I realize how refreshing the words of life are: nourishing. During this time of stillness, I also write in my journal.

journalThe inspiring journal I get to write in, decorated by my sister.

When I lived in Italy, doing an internship of my own, we were required to write in a personal journal each day. I now cherish those two journals that I filled: musings on the way of life and the beauty of my surroundings as well as words that helped me work through all the emotions that came with a time of intense growth. My journal while here in India hasn’t been as consistent as it is not a requirement, yet I still try to do it daily as the way I see the world and work through the hard things are so influenced by this tangible way of reflection.
“The world is always young again for just a few moments at the dawn.” Lucy Maud Montgomery

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