Just before sunrise is my favorite time of day.
I love the final hour or two of darkness leading up to the morning.
I used to work in a huge studio tucked deep into the woods
where I spent each day at a desk
in an expensive little Herman Miller cubicle
next to a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows
that faced East.
In the winter
when the trees were bare and rickety sentries
surrounding the building
I'd arrive early
not so long after the caretaker who unlocked the doors
just so I could wander upstairs
settle in at my desk with a hot cup of coffee
and wait for the faint glow
of the promised sunrise
to appear out those windows.
Those moments
of one-on-one acknowledgement
and appreciation
to God who created not only me
but the world that captures my footprints
each and every day
set my day off right.
Gratitude.
In the wash of watercolor hues
backdropping those grand trees
I caught glimpses of the days I'd spent
and the days ahead.
The dark colors of tough days.
The brilliance of those filled with joy.
The comforting colors of ordinary days
absent of noteworthy memory.
Perhaps the best kind.
With none more important
than the one I was in
right then
right now.
In the moment.
I love this song.
Written and sung by a guy
whose gift is sharing the way he sees
and experiences the world
through music.
Written and sung by a guy
whose gift is sharing the way he sees
and experiences the world
through music.
God, I don't know how many more sunrises
you have planned for me to see.
Please help me to keep my eyes focused
on the small and ordinary things
that fill those numbered days
and to appreciate
each and every one.
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