before you swing your legs off the bed

It’s 4:27 a.m., and I’m wide awake.  Ridiculous. 

My brain yawns and stretches before I do.  It has a cup of coffee –black.  Then when it’s wide awake, with all the worries and to-do lists spread out and ready to go, it wakes up my body.  So at 4:27 I wake up with a start and crash into all of it.  Thinking about the girl’s graduation party and the boy’s paperwork that needs filled out for his mission trip.  Three loads of laundry yet to do.  Need to exercise after last night’s birthday cake, and I hope to get some yard work done before I meet with a friend at noon.  Medical reports to type.  Can I spring clean the kitchen today –or maybe part of it?  What will we have for supper –and what will I pack the kids for lunch today?  Will have to go to the grocery store for meatloaf supplies. 

A morning tsunami.  

“Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”  (1 Peter 5:8  NIV)   

He gets up early, too.   

So before I swing my legs out of bed in the morning I say one word. 

Father. 

I feel the press of the enemy from the moment I wake up, as he cunningly works to make me feel defeated before I’ve even attempted to be alive. 

Father, help me.  Give me the bread for this one day. 

The thief comes in the morning to destroy our day, but Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”  (John 10:10  NIV) 

Two morning voices.  One to destroy and one to fill up.  Which one do you talk to before your feet hit the floor?