I am a morning person.  I think I have always been.  In these sacred early hours when the rest of the world is asleep I am awake with anticipation.  Much like the empty page of my journal waits for me to set thoughts down in ink, I wait for this day to unfold.

Mornings are the blank canvas waiting for the brushstrokes of heaven to set its beauty.  These gentle beginnings are a gift.  Every day has the potential of greatness as long as we don’t name it with yesterday’s thoughts.  Yet, we do that don’t we?  Call what is to come by what has already been.  We wish for different but wallow in the same.


Wishing for more doesn’t move us there.

We must welcome the light of this new day and all its moments.  Embrace it for all that it is.  Be attentive to all that happens.  Hold out your hands empty to receive to its every gift.   Not all gifts will come wrapped as we expect but they remain gifts of grace nonetheless.

Today may you find thanks for unexpected surprises.

May your heart find confidence in Him instead of looking at what you think is impossible.

Never forget He is the God of exceedingly, abundantly, more than we can ask or imagine

May all that you are wait quietly before Him.

See Him do a new thing.

And, let go of the old stuff and to welcome it in.

He is the sky painting, star hanging and dust breathing Creator God.

Today let Him create in you.

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Begin Now


The furnace gently whirs in the background warming the room and lulling the senses.  Its soft white noise soothes this moment quiet.  The muted glow of a single lamp falls gently across my lap as I wait for my world to awaken.

It has been a long morning – one of those that started well before daylight and lingers an eternity.  This first real “cold” morning of the season blows frigid outside my windows and I am caught between.

This is the week of Thanksgiving.  We have named it so and dance around it with parades, football, turkeys and pies.  We have filled it to the brim with food, family and fun but leave little room for grace and gratitude. We hunger for more and miss the treasures we already hold.

So here I sit watching the last few leaves fall from limbs stripped bare and ponder this truth.  This season has barely begun and I have far too quickly forgotten what has just ended.  The multicolored beauty so quickly overlooked and woefully, lost for eternity.  I struggle with transient nature of this world – the revolving door where graces walk in and graces walk out.

I don’t want to forget a moment and yet, I feel like I forget them all.

They are lost in the worry and the rush.  They are tossed aside for the things more pressing.  They are drowned out by that which howls louder.  Their gentle presence comes and goes with barely a notice and yet, I am wanting for it.

So now, in this present moment the words of St. Jerome echo long into my soul, “Begin to be now what you will be hereafter.”

Begin now.

The grace of this present moment will not tarry and I cannot hold what I do not to see or hear.

Begin now.

And, so I do.  Begin now to welcome in the graces and give gratitude before all else – before the incessant chatter of empty words; before the impatient demands of this harried world and before they vanish unnoticed. It seems fitting this week of Thanksgiving to hunger for what I already have and give thanks for all that already is.

“Lord, give me an open heart to find You everywhere, to glimpse the heaven enfolded in a bud, and to experience eternity in the smallest act of love.

Mother Teresa

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