It is early in the morning, and I stand alone; I am waiting for the rising sun to peek over the rim of trees across the still darkened street. The grass is damp with slivered drops of dew, and it tickles my bare toes as I wait.
As I pause, I hear a melody in the heart of me, voices from the ages singing "Holy, holy, holy!" Turning up the volume I relax my stance and welcome the peals of worship, the sun appears and dries my feet with caresses of heat.
In the stillness, I revel in an anthem of worship, wearing His music well, as it floods my soul and spills over into the stillness of the day. I call upon my Lord to be near me, share His presence and to own my rhythm.
Busyness beckons as I wander toward the shade to gain clearer vision of the call that has been standing in stark relief against this blessed moment. So into my world I go refreshed by more than sleep, prodded by my Father's plan.