Mornings.

You know that first sip of coffee? The one you take when all is right with the world. Even if you don’t drink coffee, you know the time of day I’m talking about. Before you check your phone. Before the thump of kids’ feet hitting the floor running in a herd of shouts for “MOM!” The sip you take after the critters have been let out and fed (because Lord knows they have been on pins and needles for an hour just waiting for you to get up, already.)

THAT sip of coffee…that time of day. When your brain is a jumble of sleep-generated cobwebs that you try to make sense of and just end up shaking out. When your joints ache and creak and muscles long to be stretched out by a lengthy session of yoga. Or, at the very least, a shot of wish I were ten years younger.

Sometimes, that first sip is thrust into your hand by a “ha, I was up hours ago” spousal unit that you can’t glare at because helloooo…coffee. So you ignore their bouncy, cheery attitude and vow silently to have a quick comeback next time. Cuz you both know there will be one. And you both know you won’t have one.

Or maybe it’s the holy grail of all first sips…the vacation morning coffee. Because really, no matter what is going on in the world, there is nothing, nor ever will be, anything like that first gulp of brew, this side of the Heavenly realm. Where, I am convinced (and I am sure it is biblically sound) the rivers flow with honey for non-coffee drinkers and hot, steaming bold blend with just the right amount of sugar and cream, for us coffee worshippers.

Why, you ask, is that morning first cup of life so important? For me…it signals a new day, fresh mercies, maybe even a do-over or twelve. Which, without the crowning moment of coffee goodness, could go either way…and, if I were honest, still will go either way but if it’s going to go south, at least I can say the day started off right. And, why is it that the second cup never has the same mystical powers of taste and gift of life that the first cup has?

But truly, doesn’t coffee make it easier to do the morning things? Empty the dishwasher, start a load of laundry, make breakfast, send your people off to begin the day? Hopefully, like me, you are the last one to leave the house in the morning. Able to linger over that last cooled sip of life in a quiet house where the critters have sunk into their post breakfast coma, the counters have been wiped clean, and your lonely, empty favorite mug is left in the sink to hold down the fort for another day.

Blessings (and cheers to a good cup of Joe).