I love mornings. There are summer mornings where the sky is a light blue, the grass green and lush, and dew still clings to each blade of grass. The sun rises as if it’s shouting to the world that it’s a brand new day.
Then there are cold crisp wintry mornings. Snow falls during the night, leaving the world in a blanket of white cold softness. I love those kinds of mornings with a steaming hot cup of coffee in my hands and my feet perched right on top of the heat vents.
Spring mornings are filled with color. You wake up to find the tulips and daffodils have made an appearance. I was outside yesterday and found some cute purple flowers in front of my house. I have no idea what kind of flower they are, but they sure are pretty.
Autumn mornings for me are overcast; the dark gray sky contrasts with the vivid oranges, reds and yellows of the trees that line the street I live on. If I imagine hard enough, I’m sure I can smell the smoke from a wood burning stove somewhere. I break out the oatmeal that has been sitting in the back of my cupboard and make a pot full of the stuff, then serve it with a bit of brown sugar, cinnamon and cream.
I love mornings for the colors, the smells, and the sounds. But I also love mornings for another reason. They represent the start to a fresh new day. I have a new day to do what is right, to enjoy what God has given me, to take a step away from the hurt and a step towards my future.
Not all mornings are rosy and golden. Some mornings are harder than others. There are mornings when I don’t want to wake up. What happened yesterday still hurts today. But each morning that passes God uses to heal. Forgiveness is extended, the grief fades, and soon I have hope again.
Each morning is unmarred and full of possibility. It’s a get-up-and-try-it-again. A new start full of God’s mercy and goodness.
“The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (NLT)