When the voice of the morning dampens the noise of the world

Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,
for in you I put my trust.
Teach me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul. – Psalm 143:8

I often talk about the fact that I am not an early riser by nature. I would, were it not for my alarm, likely sleep at least until eight o’clock. But the clock does go off, I do get out of bed, and then Max and I head out for a mile and a half walk to start the day.

And, without fail, I find that I am glad that I made the effort.

Take yesterday morning. It is quiet before seven, always, but the heavy mist seems to make it preternaturally so. The effect on the Tar River is more like the dawning of creation than day. Then, walking up Main Street and on through the Town Common, the scene is haunting, other-worldly, ethereal.

Early morning has the effect of dampening the noise of this world, quieting the nagging voices of doubt, salving the wounds of disappointment, clearing away the detritus of issues and voices and impossibilities that work their way between God’s truth and my ability to hear.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace,” Jesus whispers gently in the silence. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart – have courage! I have overcome the world.”(John 16:33).