Once upon an August morning...

I was jerked awake at precisely 5:27 by a squirming knot in my stomach. Its cause was this dreadful realization: I had parked in a place where I could get a ticket... or possibly towed. Rushing outside with an impending sense of doom, waves of relief washed over me as I saw my fabulous, enormous, wood-paneled wagon still sitting in the lot (next to a tiny smart car, which gave me quite a laugh) completely ticket free.

Praise the Lord!

                          —Not even for sparing me a headache and inconvenience, really, but for this:
I was dragged out of bed in a frenzy, fully expecting the worst, only to step out the front door and literally have my breath taken away by one of the most glorious sunrises I've ever seen. Vivid magenta clouds illuminated the horizon, ribbons of crimson and gold reaching their spindly fingers up into the retreating darkness. And in that moment, I was struck by the overwhelming mercy of my Savior.

So I drove to Cup of Joe, got some chai, and sat on the river,
drinking in God's word and the splendor of His creation. 


                                                                   But this I call to mind,
                                                                          and therefore I have hope:
                                                                   The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
                                                                          his mercies never come to an end;
                                                                   they are new every morning;
                                                                          great is your faithfulness.
                                                                   “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
                                                                          “therefore I will hope in him.”

[Lamentations 3:21-24]