The Morning of the Naked Trees

One morning last week, as I drove back from taking the male offspring to the bus stop, I was struck by the outline of the winter bare trees against the deep blue of the just-before-sunrise sky.

I have written before about my infatuation with the simple beauty of "naked" trees.  On that particular morning it was almost strong enough to make me want to dig out a long neglected sketchpad, some pastels, and an artist's pen to see if I could recreate something which might come somewhat close to resembling the view I was enjoying.

Almost...

It did cause me to stop my car in the middle of our road to snap a few photos with my phone.

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Three O'Clock in the Morning

I can't figure out what is going on with me and 3am!

First - I woke up at 3am sure someone was moving around and making noise in the male offspring's room.  Wondering what in the world he was doing at that time of night, I got up and went to check on him.  Both he and the dog were sound asleep.  Um... OK. Back to bed, where it took me forever to fall back asleep.

Then -  I woke up around 3am convinced I was smelling toast.  So sure, I got up to see who was making toast at that time of night.  The kitchen was empty.  The toaster oven was off.  And cool.  No one had been toasting bread of any sort.  Um... OK.  Back to bed, where I lay awake slowly taking inventory for any symptoms of a stroke.

Last night, I woke up about 3am absolutely sure that either a) the alarm hadn't gone off and we were oversleeping.  Or b) the alarm was about to go off any moment.  Of course, neither was correct.  Unfortunately, it messed up my sleep for the rest of the night because I kept waking up anticipating the alarm.

The hypochondriac in me is convinced that something is misfiring somewhere in my brain at three in the mornings.  The normal (?) part of me just wants to sleep through a night without having to get up at 3am for some reason.

Warmer Mornings

I am so excited to see the calendar telling me that it is Spring. (even though it hasn’t exactly felt like it on most days yet) Spring means warmer days. Warmer mornings.

I look forward to taking my morning quiet time outside onto the back porch. Just me, a cup of coffee, and my Bible. Oh… and the morning sun, the birds, and the spring breeze.

New Every Morning

As the mornings have gotten cooler, I have missed sitting on my back porch in the mornings for my quiet time. 

Sitting out there in those early morning hours, it's easy to see the hand print of God. 

"They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." ~ Lamentations 3:23

You can see his work in the trees, the sunlight, the birds coming to the feeder.

You can hear it in the breeze, the bird songs, the soft clucking of the chickens.

Sometimes I can even feel His Spirit here with me.

God makes Himself known to us in subtle ways. 

He is always all around us - with us.  We just have to stop, look, and listen to feel Him there.

"Be still, and know that I am God" ~ Psalm 46:10

3:30 am

3:30 am.  Wide awake.  Sort of.  Ok, not really.  Sort of half awake.  Not sleepy enough to go back to dreamland.  Not awake enough to get up and do anything productive. 

This seems to be becoming a regular thing for me.  It's not always 3:30.  Sometimes it's 2:30.  Or 4:30.  The exact time isn't really that important.  What ever the time, there I am in the wee hours of the morning.  Awake enough that it does not qualify as rest.  Sleepy enough not to qualify as awake.

The brain churns at 3:30 am.  I feel pretty sure I am at my most creative in those pre-dawn hours.  There in the dark waits ideas for blog posts, writing journal entries, short stories, and perhaps even a first novel.  I'm a literary genius!  It's not just writing either.  The projects for my Etsy shop, home improvement and decorating, even gift ideas.  It all flows like the wine at a bacchanalia. 

Sadly, they never last.  For, at 3:30 in the morning, my mind is still asleep enough that it can't hold onto the brilliance it creates during that time.  Sleep comes, and washes it all away.  The sun rises and my mind strains trying to recapture even one of the ideas it had in the dark.  But they remain elusive, like forgotten dreams.