I don’t know when I became a morning person. Today I am at a youth camp helping in the auditorium for the week. It is about 6:30 in the morning and I have an hour to kill, even though I finished my quiet time an hour ago. The camp is coming alive with the sounds of youthful early risers, though I have yet to see another adult.
I used to be among the majority who liked to sleep as long as possible. Perhaps it was the early morning walks on the beach when I lived in Santa Cruz. Maybe it is the quiet of the house when no one else is awake. Or it may just be the still small voice of God that comes through so much clearer in the quiet of the morning. What ever it is, I have a hard time sleeping past six now.
I think my son may be on to something. Being on the autism spectrum, he avoids loud noise and hectic situations. His most comfortable place is in his room. He spends much of his time mastering games for which I struggle to grasp the basics. He even manages to tune out the sometimes-wild play of his sisters.
Yes, it makes me sad that he cannot handle the craziness of camp to come and enjoy the awesome aspects of it, but he finds his joy in peace. We can all use a little of that. So, pardon me while I enjoy a little more of that while I bask in the quiet of an empty auditorium. Perhaps you can find a little quiet spot yourself.
Read Luke 4:42