There’s something magical about new beginnings. We look forward to New Year’s Day with hopeful resolutions—expecting our lives to change with a toast of champagne and a kiss. School years are the same, brought in with new clothes and perfectly sharpened pencils.
Sometimes we just need a fresh start. Our years, and weeks, and moments become messy—full of confusion and stress—running fast ahead of us as we sprint to catch up. Some seasons are full of hurt and sadness and loss. And beneath the weight of the season we long for newness, wanting to close that story and begin afresh.
I think this is why we love makeovers—whether it’s our home, our hair, or our heart. We desire renewal, a fresh start, a new beginning. And this is why I love mornings.
I used to be a night person—loving the mystery of the dim lights and the late hour. But now I’m decidedly a morning person and I think it has to do with this idea of newness. Mornings are the new beginnings that come every single day. They’re a chance to start over—our slate cleansed with a hot shower and warm coffee.
But mornings, like anything else, take intentionality. They’re only a fresh start if you make them that way.
I began what I call “quiet times” several years ago. It is my way of starting the day, staving off the busyness until my heart is good and ready. I protect this time fiercely, carving it out even in the busiest of seasons.
They start slowly, the morning cool, the grass glistening with dew. The house is quiet as I pad to the kitchen to start the coffee—the rich aroma warming the sleepy air. I settle in with my journal and a book, soft music keeping me company like a confidant.
It’s the time before the world has woken up—my time to process and think and imagine and dream. It’s my time to understand my life in the fundamental ways that get lost in the hurriedness of the day. It’s before anyone has asked anything of me—before requests have been made or stress has knocked on the door, begging to be let in.
It’s the time where my mind is emptied—free of all of the worrying thoughts that build up over time. And where it is filled, threaded through with sweet thoughts—tender, inspiring, and understanding. It’s the time when my most tender prayers happen, my mind not awake enough to try to be eloquent. It’s the time when I feel little, innocent and calm, protected by a thick blanket of sleep and lingering dreams.
This is the way I’ve begun each morning for the last three years and it’s my favorite part of the day.
In our busy, fast-paced world, we lose parts of ourselves when we fail to be quiet. We lose perspective and our ability to take life as it comes. We get caught up in the swirl of lists and responsibilities and fears. But with a few quiet moments… everything is renewed.
How do you wake up in the morning? Where does your renewal come from?
Image via J.Crew and Cappuccinos