The Transition

The Transition

Good morning, Father.

My eyes are stuck shut.

My muscles are tired and stiff.

My hair! It’s standing straight up from the shock of the restless night. My face has new lines and folds from being pressed into the pillowcase.

I look as good as I feel.

I have no idea what today will bring which makes me fearful.

What tragedy or unforeseen calamity is crouching at my door waiting to devour my children or me?

I feel exposed and vulnerable in the mornings.

My soul feels the crush of life’s responsibilities, Lord, because during the night my hope changed hands. I switched from trusting You with my life to putting my trust in myself.

Forgive me, Father. Mornings are always where I have to shake my befuddled self and remember that rolling the earth on its axis is not my job. I am not the manager of the cosmos.

“Find rest O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.” Psalm 62:5-6

Thank You, Lord.

Let’s start this morning over again.

My hope comes from You.