Early Misty Morning

Early mornings have always been my favorite time. While the noisy world to come is still asleep, the quietness offers my soul a few more minutes of blissful peace and strengthens me for whatever the day might bring. If I could choose my favorite place to have that first cup of pre-dawn coffee, I would imagine myself on the home ranch at the end of the long sandy road. I grab a hot cup and make my way to the patio outside the east door and sit on the bench. Every morning here is a gift, but at certain times it comes wrapped with a beautiful silvery bow. These mornings usually occur in the fall of the year when the air temperature begins to gravitate downward. The stream that twists and turns its way through the meadows, less than a block from the house I grew up in, has not yet given up the warmth it’s absorbed through the hot summer months. On occasion, when the temps of both the air and the water is just right, a trail of damp, eerie mist will hover above the stream. These are the mornings I can trace the hidden river – to the east and to the west – by the mystical ribbon that lingers several feet above the banks.

It seems my senses are sharpened on these special mornings – maybe the humidity plays a part. A pleasant earthy smell encompasses the damp air around me, encouraging me to take in deeper than normal breaths to enjoy the freshness. Extreme clarity is expressed in the cry of a lone mourning dove and the far away bellow of a hungry calf. I am grateful to have this almost sacred, momentary experience as I know it will not last long. Once the sun rises just a little higher and warms the air, the mist will flee as fast as it came.

Isaiah knew the truth of the mist too and used it to beautifully pen God’s response to our repented hearts. I have swept away your sins like the morning mists. I have scattered your offenses like the clouds. Oh, return to me, For I have paid the price to set you free. Isaiah 44:22

What peace comes with repentance and reconciliation! More peace than even an early misty morning.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

oe th