let me show you.

not my pictures and not claiming them, but they sure are pretty;)

It's beautiful, you know. It's waking early, after staying up too late, your bed unwilling to relinquish your body, sucking you deeper into its warm depths. But no, you push away the down comforter, being hit by what seems to be air straight from the arctic. Quickly then, you jump up, hurriedly walking towards the kitchen, trying to navigate stairs that are still a bit off kilter from the haze that still envelops you. Through the fog that is thick inside your brain you look for coffee, wondering why you didn't just get the dang machine ready the night before like you always say you will and never actually do. One day, you will get the coffee ready the night before, so you can be that well organized person who greets the morning with the simple push of a button. Heh, yeah right. The fact that you remembered to set your alarm is cause for some serious celebration. And you will celebrate! With coffee! If you can ever find it. 

Finally, those dark grinds make a contrast against their white bed and that beautiful morning drip has begun. Glancing out the window, the morning light is pushing down through leafy green filters, softening it ever so slightly, and allowing its golden fingers to gently caress the silver dew that blankets the ground. Mist hangs here and there, scattered through pastures surrounded by white picket fences. Like a gentle breath breathed into newly formed lungs, the day takes shape around all of this, made up of salmon colored, golden air, kissed by the mist that is dissipating all around and in it. The light grows ever brighter, awakening a day that has never been, reflecting off of dew soaked, silver window panes. Gently, quietly, a beautiful ballerina gracefully entering the stage, the morning comes, sung into being by sleepy birds and the drip of dark liquid from a gurgling machine. 

That ache deep within begins. Knowing you've caught something unaware. Something hesitatingly beautiful. Moments forged deep and long ago to simply be this…just ordinary and simple. Still, they were thought of and gifted to this warm, dew soaked, golden morning. The risk taken was that they would never be noticed, that they would pass into oblivion lived and breathed, but never seen. Ah, but they were seen. They were seen and caught up in the imagination of a writer who noticed. They were formed into words upon a page and immortalized for others who were gifted this kind of morning, yet didn't see. 

It's beautiful, you know. To catch these simple moments unaware. They go about unassuming, believing they will never be found…stunningly beautiful in how ordinary they are. Ah, but beautiful things do not have to herald and cry forth that they are beautiful. They do not demand attention. They just simply are. 

This is my gift to you. I can notice and catch up the life that has been gifted to me. I can pull you into my morning, my moments, my beautiful ordinary life. I do not want to simply tell you what I've been given, I want to show you. Did you see it? 

It is still morning…open your eyes and see what you have been given by the One who created this morning for you before the world ever spun upon its axis. Look. See. Breath deep of this one wild and sweet life you've been given. Capture this morning and never look back.