Ps 143:8 Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust...
I think it was Thoreau who said that the two most beautiful words in the English language were "summer afternoon". Not to be contrary, but I am convinced they are "summer morning". Especially this summer. Three of my four children are grown - not yet moved out, but grown. They each have a good, full-time job. Each is doing what he or she wanted to do, in the area each wanted to gain experience. (One daughter is in fashion merchandising, her identical twin, small and feminine, is in construction - shooting for a contractor's license, and my oldest son is slowly mastering HVAC - "Heating, Ventilation, Air Conditioning").
So my summer mornings these days, are quite different than those of yore. While my youngest son sleeps in, I say goodbye to my pastor-husband as he leaves for the day...
....and suddenly I have the unimaginable luxury of a quiet morning. I putter. I dawdle. I try to think of just what exactly do I want for breakfast - a question I almost never have time to ponder any other time of year.
I have been one who has made the acquaintence of that "prophet in rough clothing" - the name C.H. Spurgeon coined for depression. Years ago, I dragged myself to my Bible, and again discovered Psalms 143. In fact, the year was 1997. I drank deeply from the truths of that Psalm, acknowleging before the Lord that mornings are the most wretched times for a woman struggling with depression. I pleaded with the Lord to "cause me to know" Him and His lovingkindness in those empty, hollow mornings. If He did not "cause me", if He did not initiate, I feared I would remain in that place of no-feeling, that place of no-motivation, that place of no-joy, forever.
..."And it came to pass in those days..." Everything comes to pass. No longer do I fear the valley. I now understand that I will always pass through every valley of the shadow I will ever encounter, even that of final death. I will never be there to stay. I know that now.
I've passed through several valleys since the Year of Psalm 143. I've received from the Prophet in Rough Clothing a few times. In fact, he just left me this late spring, after an unusually long visit. And I can clearly see that God has lavishly answered the prayers I prayed all the way back in 1997, when mornings were the worst, and I needed Him to force Himself upon me. I needed God to "cause me to know".
That is why the two most beautiful words in the English language are, to me, "summer morning....summer morning".
Just as Christ left the wilderness of testing, and quietly had some sort of breakfast, I too silently celebrate the Lord of the Morning, and the lovingkindness He has caused me to know. With a ripened tomato, fresh plucked and red on my windowsill, I create exactly what I'm craving. What an amazing luxury!
Joy cometh in the morning!