The Cold, Dark Morning of Joy

This morning, I woke up early enough to watch the sunrise from where I sat with my Bible and journal. I ventured out into the blue-black morning and saw the buttery light coming from underneath the trees far away. I bundled up and dragged the garbage can and recycling bin to the curb. I loved the sounds of it all: the crunch of me and bins on the icy snow, the one bird announcing itself, and the few cars starting their journey for the day. My slippered feet never sank into snow but stayed firm on the packed ice.

Most of all, I love the smell of a fresh morning in winter, at least in our woodsy neighborhood in Pennsylvania. It’s a crisp, clean, hopeful smell. I stood for a while beside the garbage and took deep breaths. What a miracle a new day is! And it’s always that revelation alongside the most ordinary of things: garbage cans and recycling bins. But that’s always been the point of Live with Flair: the divine traveling parallel to the mundane in every moment of life.

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