my morning

It's one of those mornings where I savor the quiet hour or so before Ziva wakes up.

I prepare my coffee and the spoon clinking on the sides of my favorite mug seems loud.

I wrap myself in a sweater and sit down on the couch with Bible in hand.

I read and pray, then knit and glance at the slideshow of pictures popping up on the computer screen. Each picture reminds me of a certain person or time and I pray or praise for them.

The wheels in my head turn while I work twisted rib across the rows of my cardigan, thoughts not interrupted by anyone or anything.

I think of what I'd like to do during my day, week, month, year, life.

I soak in the quiet, the alone, the stillness of the morning where no one demands my time.

Then I hear a tiny knock, and a "hewwo!"

I scoop her up into a hug and in that moment I hold more joy in my arms than my mornings alone have ever held.

Our day begins.

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