Tag: morning

Posted in outdoors

Awake and outside for the dawn

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Simon Wilkes on Unsplash

I wasn’t going to get up early. But I heard the Great Dane pup whining from her cage at 5:10 am. The granddaughters were spending the night, and I didn’t want them to wake up, so I quickly snuck in the back bedroom and led the big dog out of her cage, leaving everyone else behind (including the little dog) to keep snoozing.

I got her out just in time. She must have had a lot to drink before bedtime. I gave her breakfast, grabbed my coffee, journal and bible, and went out on the back patio.

Yeah, it’s still pretty dark at that hour of the morning. The humidity must have been down, because the table and chairs weren’t wet with dew. For some reason, the LED lights on the umbrella weren’t working, so I had to rely on my phone balanced on the coffee cup with the flashlight on to see what I was reading and writing.

The big dog patrolled the yard, got a drink, and sat down under the table where I thought I could put my feet. No one else in the neighbor was up yet, so there was no one to woof at. Yet.

As the sky got just the slightest shade lighter, dozens of birds started chirping, calling, and singing. I was amazed at how the morning went from quiet to noisy in just a few minutes.

Suddenly, the big dog trotted off across the yard to let out an enormous, “Woof!” I don’t know what she heard, but it set off the dog alarm. It could have been a frog jumping out of the lawn or a car door in the distance. I barked my own, “Hey!” and she trotted back to see what I wanted. I just didn’t want her to wake everyone up.

Sitting outside is totally different than being inside at my desk. I don’t know if it’s the sounds or the fresh air or the morning breeze. It just feels good to be out there. And since the high temperatures will be in the nineties and the evenings get kind of buggy, it’s the only time during the day I can sit outside.

So I guess I don’t mind being woken up early.

Posted in Moments of grace

Sunrise and sunset: best times of the day

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Morning
Evening

Now that I’m taking our dog out for a daily morning and evening walk, I’m not only getting a lot more steps in but I’ve discovered my love of sunrises and sunsets.

I love the walks that begin in the pre-dawn darkness and end in light. I also love the walks that I start before sunset and end in darkness. For some reason, I enjoy the transition from one state to another. As the sky brightens, I anticipate a new day. In the same way, as the night approaches, I’m acutely aware of the blessings I’ve experienced.

For instance, my early morning thoughts were all about going to church today. I was looking forward to special Christmas music today, and imagined what carols we might sing. In the evening, I thought about all the people I talked with today. I hadn’t spoken with some for over a year. It was so nice to catch up with each others’ lives.

It’s not always easy to time my walks for these moments. My dog Winston isn’t a morning person, and if I want to walk before dawn, I have to wake him up and lift him out of his cage to get him out the door. In the afternoon, he’s ready for his second meal of the day long before sunset, so I have to resist the “please feed me” look on his face about 4 pm.

The colors of sunrise and sunset aren’t visible any other time of the day. The mornings are filled with pinks, while oranges show up in the evening. Sometimes I try and take a picture of the dawn and dusk skies. The photos never seem to capture the hues that my eyes see on my morning and evening walks. It’s as if God is saying, “You can experience these colors, but you can’t capture them. Enjoy!”

In both the early morning and early evening, few cars drive by on our walks through the neighborhood. Many are still waking up to get ready for work of school. Later, they are gathering for supper. So we own the empty streets, walking right down the center, only listening for the newspaper delivery cars driving by.

Timing is everything. Right now, as the winter solstice approaches, sunrise is late while sunsets comes early. Summer is a different story. But don’t worry. I’ll be chasing them both.

Posted in 2022 Lent Devotions

First thing in the morning

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Bonus “Mirror of the Passion” devotion for Easter Sunday. Photo by Tim Foster on Unsplash

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. (Luke 24:1)

It’s early. It’s still dark. But I’m awake. I always wake up five minutes before my alarm. It’s how I’m wired, I guess. I might as well get up. My routine: feed Samson (my dog), start the coffee maker, walk the dog, pour a cup of coffee, grab my bible, journal and a pen. It’s time to find out what Jesus has to say today.

That’s right, he’s already up. His word is active and alive. It will easily cut through joints and marrow and speak to my heart. It might be something I’ve heard a hundred times before. It might be something I’ve never thought about before. It might be a promise I’ll need to get through the day. Or it might be one I can pass along to someone else.

Jesus is up before the women who went to the tomb. He is risen, the stone’s rolled away, the guards have fainted, and the tomb is empty (except for the linen). Maybe they can return those spices for store credit.

If you ever think you’ve go it all figured out, just remember Easter. Nothing went as expected. Yet it turned out better than anyone could have imagined! Add a bit of Easter to your daily routine and you’ll never be bored.

He is risen; he is risen, indeed! Hallelujah!

Posted in senses, Stories

Silence was here.

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash

For a brief moment this morning, I felt her presence. Silence was in the room.

The sky just beginning to lighten. The air conditioner is off. No one else is awake yet. No ice is falling in the freezer. The birds have not yet begun their song. The air is still. No cars pass by.

She rarely stops by. She never stays long.

Caffeine rings in my ear. My neck crunches when I move my head. My stomach rumbles. Is it time for breakfast? My pen scratches the paper. I reach for my coffee mug; my shoulder pops.

The dog breathes. A bird sings. A car drives by. The thermostat clicks. The air conditioner blows.

Silence was here. Now she’s gone.