I’ve always said that my day often turns out a lot like my cup of tea in the morning. This isn’t a rule, just an uncanny observance. When my mug gets popped into the microwave multiple times in a morning, it is just not as desirable. I’m rushed, flitting here and there, not focusing my attention where it needs to be. This morning, I sipped the entire mug of hot delight before it cooled, and while it remained fresh. As the last drop went down I peered into my cup a little bit surprised. This hasn’t happened in awhile. There is something beautiful about sitting in a quiet spot at the kitchen table with my tea and Bible. The day stretches out before me with no mistakes in it. I love getting to the end of my tea, realizing that I haven’t gotten up once to do this or that. It’s a beautiful thing.
Today is going to be a good day.