Monday Musings for 3.9.20
I was looking at an old sermon. February 8, 1998. I read the first page. It brought back memories and made me smile. Thought you might enjoy it, too.
Mornings in our family have changed. It used to be that I would rise before anyone else and would disappear to my health club for an early morning workout and a moderately early arrival at church. Helen got our two girls up, fed, and off to school before she went to work.
All that has changed now. We now have a baby who demands some early morning attention and Helen now has a job that demands that she be there before 7 am. So I have been pressed into service on wake-up patrol. Collin wakes up easily. In fact, he often wakes up earlier that we want him to. I deliver him to day care. Then I make sure Kelsey is up. She usually is and requires little prodding to get her to school on time. Then there’s Heather. Heather does not like to wake up. Once she is up, she moves slower than molasses in early February. Getting her to school on time is often the hardest thing I do all day.
Wednesday morning was typical. We were cutting it close as usual. Her clothes were almost on. Her breakfast was ready. I went to get her and discovered that she had changed her mind about what she wanted to wear and had started getting dressed all over again. I was not happy. She was not happy. It was not the best way to start our day. We were finally dashing out the door without a moment to spare and Heather said, “I love life!”
Now, if you or I had said that under those circumstances it would be obvious that we didn’t really mean it. Like when you get some unexpected bad news and you say, “Great! Just great!” You don’t really mean that it’s great. You mean just the opposite. Heather meant just what she said. “I love life!” I asked her why she said that. She called my attention to the birds singing and the sun shining. I had noticed neither. But she had. And now I did.
Moments earlier I was angry and she was weeping. Now that was a distant memory. “His anger is but for a moment . . . weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Psalm 30:5
Heather will turn 29 in two weeks. She still brings me joy. Maybe she brought you some this morning, too!