The morning battle

How do you start your day? Are you up 15 minutes before you have to rush out of the house? Or do you take an hour or two and begin with meditation and prayer? Do you race here and there, heart pumping as if you were some sort of cheerleader? Or do you relax and take deep breathes, forcing yourself to strangle the ify start of the day until you're hand in hand with your creator? Or is it none of the above?

The Bible says joy comes with the morning. The Bible says Jesus is the bright and morning star. Often, things simply happen with the coming of the morning. Many times Jesus simply went away in the mornings to pray. Morning is more than the sun rising. It is the time of day that the son rises.

This very morning, I've devoted the morning to saving someone's life. I will read from the Psalms (five), and one from the Proverbs. I will continue my Gospel readings from Matthew. I'm bound and abandoned, but I'm not lost this morning as the son rises again.

The morning is about us, then. As Jesus has forecast a glorious morning, so shall I. O glorious morning, o glorious day. Take the pain away and let me praise Him with what I say.

The 20th Psalm weeps for joy, shouts for healthy tidbits, and roars with accolades. God get the bitter wash ready to go. The morning battle, or perhaps the battle for morning, is what it is.

"God answer you on the day you crash, The name God-of-Jacob put you out of harm's reach,
Send reinforcements from Holy Hill; Dispatch from Zion fresh supplies, exclaim over your offerings, celebrate your sacrifices, give you what your heart desires, accomplish your plans."

The battle has never been yours or mine. The battle is His. If we can finally acknowledge that we can finally win the battle.

 "When you win, we plan to raise the roof and lead the parade with our banners. May all your wishes come true! That clinches it—help's coming, an answer's on the way. Everything's going to work out. See those people polishing their chariots, and those others grooming their horses? But we're making garlands for God our God. The chariots will rust, those horses pull up lame — and we'll be on our feet, standing tall. Make the king a winner, God; the day we call, give us your answer."