This morning was beautiful.
I didn't sleep a wink last night, instead I finished a book. A fictional novel, and of course there was love, I'm a hopeless romantic if there ever was one. I checked the time after my eyes gobbled up the last sentence, and it was just after 7. I heard quick footsteps on the hardwood downstairs, so I knew my mother had already awoken. Running off the high one gets from finishing a good book (though there was the after taste of remorse because it is, of course, finished), I pranced downstairs and put on a pot of coffee.
After enduring the warm smell of the
brewing joe, it quickly finished it's business and allowed me access. Today there was going to be a treat to accompany my cup of addiction. Elly's coffee cake. I snuck a piece into a bag before leaving her house last night. That girl never disappointed me more when she said, "I want to be a nurse" instead of, "I want to open a bakery"; honestly, God himself takes over her hands when she begins to bake.
I set out the coffee and it's pastry guest (the pair remind me of how often the pleasure of a pianist can really compliment a violin) on the screen porch, not long later my mother joined me. She told me all about the dinner party she through last night, and how her engaged - to be married next week, no less - friend didn't refrain from openly flirting, watching, and touching her incessantly, despite the fact that her own man was standing right there (he was obviously displeased).
After she gabbed about the various gossip amongst her friends, she left
me on the porch. I let out a sigh, the kind of sigh you have when you're perfectly comfortable and happy with that particular moment in time. The humidity hadn't kicked in yet, though anyone could feel it's threat hanging in the air. The skies were a dull, but tranquil, tone of gray and I got to enjoy the view of the field, trees, and honeysuckle climbing our fence taking on darker shades of color than those that the sun typically exploits.
It reminded me of Newport Beach (California), where gray mornings are a regular occurrence. This kind of morning would have been just right for a
walk with a light sweatshirt (because there is no hint of humidity there). There
would be a breeze, because what is the ocean without a breeze, and though you hadn't quite reached the coast yet, and there was still a mile or two, the familiar smell, and even taste, of salt lingered throughout the atmosphere. And tucked next to Pacific Coast Hwy is Cest'Sie Bon, a mouth-watering and inexpensive French bakery. I was resolutely committed to the cinnamon twists - perfectly flakey, not too sweet, with a light blanket of powdered sugar on top. The coffee wasn't as wonderful, but Starbucks conveniently located themselves across the street.
This morning was definitely a little present from God, and if I had gone to sleep, I would have missed it. He has just been blessing me and surprising me this week. My plans completely transformed from just a week ago. I had been planning on coming back to Boone, sub-leasing an apartment with my friend, taking a class or two, and working as much as I could. Sunday night, however, I crashed the Germany Missions meeting, just to see everyone since I knew the team, and I walked out knowing God wanted me to go. I never thought that would happen because I haven't had any interest or calling to go back to Germany until last Sunday, and now I couldn't be more excited. I just have to secure a job here, which Chick-Fil-A will hopefully handle, and raise and save a extraordinary amount of money. I'm thrilled to be going back, it's a pretty small team this year, and God is just going to use us in an amazing way, I know it.
