Thunderstorms and Coffee

Today looks a little something like this. I know blog posts are supposed to serve a purpose, but for me, it's just practice. It's an attempt to be habitual with my posts. By no means does this imply that I want to post a heaping pile of boring just for the sake of posting something, but there might be stillness in my everyday life, like today. It's a kind of stillness I crave.

Yes, I am aware every teenager uses a rainy day to swallow some melancholy and regurgitate it into angst. That's not my intent, I just enjoy rain, and the reminder that I'm not going to be the age forever. I won't have countless hours alone in my parent's house in the years to come. We won't even live here much longer than a year. I already had to say goodbye to this house once, and the Lord has given it back to us to claim for another two years. Since I've become accustomed to short "forevers," I intend to take as many sloppy pictures of rain outside of my favorite window as I can because I know they'll soon become images of nostalgia.

It's my attempt to stop time and leave it as is. If I could, I would save this kind of morning and retrieve it to enjoy when life picks up it's inevitable pace once again in the fall. The first slow pour of coffee into one of my favorite mugs, sipping over the sink until my eyelids begin to open a little bit wider as the cool air pours through the kitchen window into the stale house, the scratchy sound of the needle hitting vinyl, the calmness I fantasize about while I'm in a classroom.

God knows me too well. He gives me these mornings, perfectly tailored to my own personal peace. The beautiful thing is that these stolen moments don't last long because it's not as glamorous at 3 o'clock in the afternoon to be standing with coffee in pajamas. It just isn't. It's my morning. Mine, and the Prince of Peace. Thank you Jesus. 1 Samuel 2:2 There is none holy like the Lord: for there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.