7:24 a.m.

I have never been a morning person, ask anyone who knows me. At some point in my life, maybe even just one day, I decided it was important to wake up and watch the sunrise. The one morning I chose, (I remember) was chilly. Frosted-over grass crunched & dead trees drooped. I walked to the highest hill I could find and sat on a cement block that felt colder than everything around me. I waited. Impatient. The pink and purple colors that slowly inched their way over the grey trees, did not disappoint. When I breathed, it felt fresh. When I listened, it was still. There is something about beginning your day completely alone with something so beautiful.

Since that day (2 years ago?) I have had other sporadic moments of feeling the need to see the sunrise. These events have turned into all sorts of special memories, some with others, some alone. I remember breakfast picnics, summer heat, sprinkler surprises...I remember my 21 birthday morning - being on a rooftop in Ireland, praying with a close friend. A morning is to me, a reminder that God is indeed the God of daily miracles.

Today was no exception. This time I had Beth Moore's inspiration in one hand, and mint tea in the other. (12 hours of sleep helped as well) This morning I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to remember that New Zealand is a really beautiful place and I am fortunate to live here. (no matter how much I may miss home)...and I wanted to remember that God is bigger than my wildest imaginations.