I wasn’t at my Thursday morning Bible Study;
we’re on hiatus.
I wasn’t teaching in that unventilated bookroom.
I wasn’t lost at Wally World, thank goodness.
Or cleaning house...ok maybe a little
I didn’t tag along with the husband.
Or visit the Duchess.
I’m late because I was sleeping.
OK, technically, I wasn't sleeping clear until noon, but I was sleeping much later than is my custom on a Thursday morning.
I have been running around like a chicken with her head cut off for over a week now. If I had a day planner (and I don’t because I can’t keep up with one...), every day would look like an ink blot on a Rorschach test. Every plan that I have made this week has been scratched over seventy times to accommodate the tyranny of the urgent. And every day that I think I’ll stop and control my life for a pair of minutes? I am Debbie Interrupted.
Can anyone relate?
And yet, no matter how busy I have made myself…
No matter how gainfully employed that brain of mine is at midnight…
I still feel the need to get up before the crack of dawn.
How silly is that? It’s not as if I have a family to get out the door.
I’m just a compulsive early riser. In my mind, if I just get started a little earlier, I can somehow get it all done. I set that alarm for 5:00 every morning, even Saturday. Technically, I set it for 4:33. That allows me to slap that snooze button three full times before dragging myself out of bed, holding my head over an enormous mug of coffee, and forcing myself awake.
Some days, I decide to wake by 4:00, which starts the process even earlier. You may have discovered wee hour comments from me out there in Blog Land because I often read blogs while I’m doing it. Just consider yourselves an additional cup of morning coffee.
And then I wonder why I’m miserable by 8:00 PM.
Goofy, isn’t it?
So last night as I was getting ready for bed, I reached for the trusty alarm clock the way I habitually do. After all, I had a day planner page all scribbled down in my head, and I wanted to jump to it at dawn, as as I habitually do.
But then, I stopped.
I’m tired. When I’m tired, I’m cranky. When I'm cranky, I don't handle the changes well. I'm also less productive and enthusiastic about what I'm actually able to do.
Something had to give.
So last night, I decided to do something really radical. I would trust God to wake me up this morning when He determined that I had had enough sleep.
And this morning,
way after 5:00…
way after 5:00…
Way after the blue hour...
and way after the sunrise…
Without the assistance of any
boooooop, booooooop, boooooping sound,
I opened my eyes.
And do you want to know what sound actually did the job?
Singing right outside my window.
And, friends, at that very minute,
bumped all contenders for this week’s simple pleasure.
Joining my friend Dayle
for the Simple Pleasures party.
I sure hope there's still some finger food left by the time I get there.