The Temperature of My Heart

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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.


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