Dawn’s Early Light

I awaken before I need to rise.  Squinting at the bedside clock.  The clock that is so high-tech I find it difficult to operate.  My husband’s clock.  I can go back to sleep for another 45 minutes or just get up.  Tossing back the covers.  The decision’s made.

Gosh, it’s dark out.   I put on the lights and dress in my exercise clothes.  Fumbling with the remote to start the exercise dvd.  Realization slowly settles in.  This is not the remote for the dvd player.   I dutifully start the routine.  Just listen to the directions and keep moving.  Before I realize it the half hour is done.  Still a bit bleary-eyed, I head to the kitchen.

The silence of my home is deafening.  Water boiling away in the electric kettle seems unusually loud.   Email is quickly scanned while waiting for the tea to steep.  Morning prayer time and bible reading is engrossing.  The last half of cup grows cool.

That kettle again makes its loud boiling noises as I contemplate the beauty of the early morning light.  The subtle light before the sun comes up over the horizon.  The sudden piercing rays through the window once the sun appears.  Holding the warm mug of tea in my hands as I stand at the window.  The steam wafts up to my face as I slowly sip.  Aaaah, ‘Nectar of the Gods’.  That’s what I would answer every time my husband asked why I drank so much tea. 

I contemplate my day.  Work looms large in my mind.  A colleague asked how I was doing yesterday.  We hadn’t spoken in months.  And he really cared to hear my response.  We were working together when I was diagnosed with cancer.  His daughter had cancer as a teen so he could relate a bit.  He was very kind during my husband’s illness and as I dealt with his death.  Our work together is done and our paths will not likely cross again. 

I think perhaps he is one of the rare people God has placed in my path to help me on my journey.  Here for a fleeting time to bring some bit of kindness.   A blessing.  The beauty of that rising sun and the risen Son join together in a moment of peace.   I smile softly as I realize that tossing back those covers was a good decision today.