Morning, I have missed you.

It's been so long since I have had a morning to myself. I have missed my little basement apartment so much and today I feel her telling me the same. Dashboard's 'Dusk and Summer' came on my iPod and writing was just the natural thing to do from there.

All the details are promiently saturated today. The screen saver on my computer is a PostSecret saying "I have found the love that makes me forget." I collect secrets.

Sitting on my counter isn't the most comfortable place to sit but it's the only place to be right now. I woke up and came right here; made coffee with my milk and sugar and and called a sleepy Scott. This is how I wish every morning would start.

From my seat by the sink, I am eye-level to my little kitchen/hallway window. It's just perfect with the sun creeping sideways and around the snowbank that hinders most of the view - and by view I mean the white house with black-trimmed windows that doubles as "Vivian's Beauty Shop" frequented by walker-pushing grandmas.

On the window sill, yes - I have a window sill and I love it quite possibly more than anything else in my house - are teal tinted Ball canning jars filled with coffee beans, Friendship tea and packets of rasberry ice Crystal Light.

My black New York City frame reminds me of that gorgeous city by holding a picure of Tim and I by the NBC/ABC/CBS peakock. (I dont remember whos peakock it is.) The ring box that my 'Papa Jon & Etta Jean' ring came in quietly sits towards the front.

The rest of the sill contain the books I have started or want to start, just begging me this morning to browse their lovely pages. My Utmost for His Highest, A Year with C.S. Lewis, The Ragamuffin Gospel (my dad's copy), The Message, Captivating, The Case for Christianity, Shadow of the Almighty, Jesus Wants to Save the Christians, Passion and Purity, Sex God and a black notebook. Just typing these out makes me want to run away and read in a small, cold costal town for a few weeks.

After I got off the phone, I just sat here. And if I breathe, it feels all is ok. My stories for class will get written. My chemistry paper will too, someday. My family will be ok because I can pull it back together. I will make amends with my sister. Scott and I will be good. I will balance out my life again, the whirlwind will stop eventually. I'll be in Arizona with Lisa soon.

If I just sit here, I can see the world for how it is supposed to be. Simple. I can see that all these petty things really don't matter all that much. And if I just breathe, I can get through it all. (Not by myself, of course.)

I have missed my mornings alone. On my fridge beside the picture of me, my dad and Lindsay and the little 'I love you' note that Anna laid by my pillow one morning at the lake is a bundle of index cards. The top one reads;

"Listen to my voice in the Morning, Lord. Each morning I bring my requests to you and wait patiently." -Psalm 5:3