by Brenda Shelly, Blooming Glen
I am an unapologetic snooze-button smacker. It is my habit to set my alarm for 5:30 each morning just for the pleasure of slapping (and ignoring) it several times before I am forced to actually rise from my soft, warm bed. The snooze button is insistent, chirping at regular intervals to rouse me from sleep and I’ve noticed lately that one of the persistently obnoxious intervals has been occurring at exactly 6:06 a.m.
This may seem inconsequential (even daft) to a Lutheran, a Baptist, a Pentecostal, or a Presbyterian. But last month in my foggy morning Mennonite mind, the association clicked. The beeping and the number have since been a recurrent morning cue, courtesy of the unrelenting connections in my brain. I’d like to think this is God’s sense of humor tickling the synapses in my brain, though some may say He’s got no time for such nonsense. Call me illogical, but I find Him to be very involved in the intricacies of my day; my mornings and waking are no exception.
So last month, the annoying beeping and the time on my clock spoke loudly and clearly, nudging me out of my morning mist and urging me to turn to page number 606 in the hymnal.
Since then, I’ve begun my days at 6:06 a.m. with a robust internal morning song. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. The song is in my heart and in my mind as I peel back the covers and try to find my footing on the carpet. Praise Him all creatures here below. At the sound of my steps stumbling toward the shower, Jasmine the cat begins to howl a morning greeting from downstairs. Praise Him above ye heavenly host. So early in the morning, my mind is drawn to the countless blessings I receive each day. Who am I, mere mortal, given the opportunity to praise my Heavenly Father in the company of heavenly beings? Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. There is none like Him. And it resonates in the very core of my being before the warm spray of water even hits me in the face.
God works in large sweeping movements leaving his indelible mark on hearts and lives. But his glory is also found blossoming from the tiny cracks of damaged sidewalks and in the ordinary details we too often fail to appreciate. His interest and involvement in our lives exceed our imaginations, and I venture to suggest He would love for us to discover blessings far surpassing those for which we stoop to ask. Hallelujah. Amen.
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Listen to Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow at last year’s Mennonite Church USA convention.