The Perfect Morning

This morning may be the perfect morning. I’m sitting in a recliner chair typing on my iPad. I’ve got a blanket on my legs and a mini-Schnauzer on the blanket. Next to me is a pen, my Bible, and a 24 oz. Yeti full of Death Wish coffee. When I glance up from my screen, the view is my backyard where dry, powdery snow is dancing its erratic patterns in the sometimes gentle, sometimes gusty winds. It’s a snow day in the Yohn household, and life is good.

            I’ve got to admit, on days like this it’s hard to get too deep. I kind of just want to admire God’s creation. The opportunities that I take to do so are so rare. Life has a tendency to block the view. But by not slowing down to smell the roses or watch the snow drift, I miss so much of who God is. He is not just the Creator or the Savior or the Judge; He is the Artist. And I’m watching some of His performance art right outside my window.

            So, I’m not going to write much today. I know that I’ve got sermon work and some book writing to do in a bit – and I’ve got to get Nancy and Madeline packed for a trip tomorrow to Florida for a college visit at Southeastern University (dang, thinking of that eventuality is one good way to bust my mellow). For right now, though, I’m going to close the iPad, sip some coffee, pick up my Bible, and enjoy reading about my Artist/Creator while I relish in the soft beauty of His creation. If you’ve got the time, I’d encourage you to do the same.

1 thought on “The Perfect Morning

  1. Evelyn Schroth Reply

    I, too, love snowy, quiet days when I have a chance and the time to reflect on God’s goodness and his many blessings, both known and unknown. It brings a special peace that warms my soul like soft old hymns, a fire in the fire place and memories of long past good times of friends and family and the sound of innocent children chattering in the background. How I love to remember a simpler time in life when we would all visit with friends and family and wind up the day playing some “old time” hymns with grandpa playing the piano, dad on the guitar and me on my small accordion. Not one of us could read a note of music on a page, but we knew the tunes and the words were etched in our hearts and minds. We were so blessed with a simple life of hard work, enough food to satisfy our hunger, and didn’t even think of how poor we were because we felt rich just being together, knowing that God was ever present in our lives and He would be there always, no matter what tomorrow might bring. Those were special times never to be known in today’s busy “hurry-up” world. One thing is always constant, though. That is the love of God for us, and our love for Him. Amen !

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