There was a flock of birds outside my window this morning at 5:30. Seriously, a flock of them. Or really, I would go so far as to say there was a herd of birds outside my window. A school of them. A pack. A gaggle.
They were there and they were loud and it was 5:30.
But after a few minutes of bitterness (because it was 5:30 and I went to sleep around 2:30) I embraced it and woke up and here I am…sitting at my kitchen table, looking out our giant window, drinking my coffee.
And I am struck by thankfulness. For the people in my life. For Auburn. For foggy mornings and for waking up before the sun.
And for the place that I am in. It’s a weird place. It’s hard to describe and is unprecedented in my spiritual life. As if I’m walking so closely with Jesus but am only able to see it from the outside. Like I’m watching myself live a passionate life without actually living it. It’s this strange dichotomy of intimacy and detachment that really makes no sense. And I’ve spent some serious time being angry about it recently. Angry and closed-off and quiet.
But this morning I am simply thankful. Because every morning his mercies are new. And every place I find myself in is a place he has allowed me to go. And as terrifying as it is to follow him into the unknown, how much more terrifying is it to not follow him at all! So whatever that means, whatever lessons I will learn from this, whatever truths I will discover or be reminded of, I am ready for and thankful for.
It’s so ridiculous how quickly I become frustrated with the Lord. As if he has ever given me reason to doubt him. How wicked are our hearts!
Karl Barth once said that “When we are at our wits’ end for an answer, then the Holy Spirit can give us an answer. But how can He give us an answer when we are still well supplied with all sorts of answers of our own?”
I have no answers here.
And for that I am thankful.
He is so good and so faithful and so loving. And his mercies are new every morning. There is no room for shame or disgrace or regret when we are living and breathing the story of his grace.
So thank you, Jesus for waking me up to a morning you have painted. A morning marked by stillness and honesty and truth. There is no other way I would rather start my day.
Except for maybe without the bird herd…but I’ll let this one slide.