I keep intending to blog, and yet I don't because I want to make sure that what I put out is precisely what I want to say. That is all well and good, of course. But, after rewriting Identity Revealed twelve times (and one more time to go at the least), I doubt I will ever satisfy myself that a piece is as perfect as I can make it. A time must come to let go, but I plan to do that in small steps. First step, actually write something and put it out there again. (I used to be a lot better at that.)
Anyway, I don't know if anyone caught the sunrise. I only saw a little bit of it when I was cleaning kitchen, but the clouds had turned periwinkle and lavender with hints of pink spiraling along the underside. Science may explain it all in very mathematical and precise terms, but for all their reasons, I cannot help but see that immense beauty and know that there's a bit of the divine in it. I don't know that God consciously creates each sunrise and sunset, but He put together the idea and allowed it to happen, and it's gorgeous.
Mornings have such a peacefulness about them. They are not a time for speaking except in the written word. The haziness of sleep wears off slower on some days than others, but after its shaken away, such a calm remains it makes the intial discomfort worth it. If it weren't for the fact that I must and should spend those hours studying law and researching cases, the time would be almost magical. At the least though, it is still special.
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