I really like mornings. I even mentioned that in the teaching yesterday at church. I love the verse that talks about joy coming in the morning. I cling to the truth that when I am tired and depressed in the evening, if I can just make it through to bedtime, then things will look brighter in the morning. I even enjoy being around non-morning type people in the mornings. They don't particularly enjoy being around me, though. Speaking of non-morning people, Chris just walked in. I told her my usual cheery "Good morning." She gave me a quick kiss and replied, "Good morning … I think." I love that girl. Even in the morning.
I woke up with a song in my head that wouldn't go away. I like that feeling on most days. Especially if the song is something about praising Jesus. I don't mind it if it's an oldie but goodie from way back in the day. You know, something by the Beach Boys, or the Beatles, or one of the balladeers from back then. I do get particularly annoyed when it is any shape, form or fashion of an advertising ditty. Those take forever to sever. But the song this morning was none of those. Today the song that I sang in my head while brushing my teeth (that's when I realized that I was singing it) was … Happy Birthday to You. Seriously. It's not my birthday. The closest family member is Christi, but she's not until later in the month. I haven't been on FaceBook yet, so I don't know if any of my friends there are celebrating. But nevertheless, the song remains. Playing over and over again. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear … who?
Proverbs 25:24 says, "Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife."
Father, thank you for creating me, for giving me a birthday in the first place. And thanks for the non-quarrelsome, non-morning wife you gave me. Amen.
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