Morning light.

My roommate made it into the living room before I did this morning – a rare occasion since I get up at 6am and she generally wakes up after 8am.

And she opened the blinds to let in all the fierce sunshine.

Eh.

I have this particular pattern that I work through in the mornings, and I like everything to be the same every day. It’s kind of ridiculous, but the pattern helps me to be consistent. Get up. Take the dog out. Make coffee. Eat breakfast. Take coffee, Bible, commentary, and journal to a particular corner of the couch next to the lamplight, and spend some time in the stillness.

This has been the pattern of my mornings for at least the past three years. I don’t remember why this has become the most comfortable routine for me, but I have grown to love the stillness of morning and the idea that my day hasn’t offically begun until all of these things are complete.

And at no point in my typical morning routine do I ever open the blinds to let in the glaring, early morning sunshine.

I don’t like the bright morning light pouring into my living room while I sit in the stillness.

I wanted to close the blinds again when my roommate left this morning for her early morning coffee date. And then I felt like that would be a bit overkill. I’m not into setting a mood to spend time in the Word or prayer journaling. I regularly spend time doing these things outside of my typical morning routine. But I wanted the darkness this morning. I wanted the dim lighting, the hot cup of coffee, and the security of my particular spot on the couch.

More and more I realize that this time in the morning has become my covering. I felt so unprepared for the glaring sunshine this morning, so overwhelmed by how bright it made the room and how distracted it made me feel. The stillness and the darkness of mornings with the Lord has become my daily refuge, my chance to breathe in Truth and the possibilities for the day before I’m actually confronted with its harsh reality. And while there is nothing about the morning light that makes my time with the Lord any less significant, I am learning that I love the significance of His covering in my life, His sustaining shield, and it’s easy for me to sense that when the day hasn’t even begun.

So I closed the blinds again and sat next the the dim light of the lamp. Until the Lord and I had met and I felt certain in His covering of my day.

And when I got up to open the blinds again, the morning light didn’t look so overwhelming anymore. It was beautiful – like the day outside and all the possibility it holds.