The Whisper of the Morning

The day is starting off with a warm tone. The sun shines bright for being asleep all night. The birds sing at a level that summer birds do. Loud. The whispers of the day beckon to the edges of my mind. Do I listen? I don’t want to hear those whispers, the ones that come from the dark corners. They are not happy ones any more. I miss the happy ones. The promise of smiles and kisses and wonderful memories. The ring tone of laughter among all of us. Those are gone now. The tone is subdued. The sun so glaring and harsh. Voices speak so harshly.

The day must go forward. Looking around, I finally find something that I can be thankful for. Of course, there are the basics of life. I have a roof over my head. I have water that flows from the faucets. I have wonderful animals that look at me with love. I even have a bed to sleep in. As my mind courses through the obvious things, I start to panic. Do I really find the joy in things…I hope so? I want to. I see happy people, I see in their lives the happy things. Wait. There I go again, comparing. I don’t want to walk in that direction.

The heat is heavy as the day blooms. I wonder what my Savior felt on the day he walked up the final hill. I wonder if he conversed with his dad. If the conversation was full of people names or was it just a time of worship for him. When life is at the darkest, I sometimes have that type of conversation with God. I begin to worship Him and bring up people who need His help. I believe God hears those conversations. That is faith, believing that something is happening even when I can’t see it. Today will be another day of that. My list is long

Author: thewidowwomanblog

I am a 53 year old widow who is watching her kids step out into life while holding tight to the Creator's hand.

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