I'm not a morning person. I like to sleep and I need a lot of it. Upon waking, I really need coffee before I speak. Since most of the other people in my family are early risers, I used to look on this as a failing on my part, but I've changed my outlook in recent years. I have accepted that this is who I am, that my seratonin levels may need a bit more of a boost than your average bear, and that I am never going to miraculously become a morning person.
My husband, on the other hand, needs very little sleep and gets up talking. Like, a mile a minute. Happily, cheerfully, and loudly. The first time we spent the night together he had to get up at four in the morning and drive me back to my place so he could be at his family's BBQ restaurant by five to start up briskets. So he woke me up, loaded me into the car, and started chatting. Judging by my expression and complete lack of response, he started getting worried. Started imagining I was mad at him, trying to figure out why, apologizing, and asking lots of questions. Finally, I spoke, uttering one word and one word only: "Coffee!" Through the magic of 24 hour service stations and the caffeinated beverages they provide, our relationship survived.
Once we were married, however, I realized I was going to have to give up the comfort of my morning grumpiness. I now had two young stepdaughters and they got up early. Every morning. Because to me, back then, 7 a.m. was early. (Excuse me a giggle-snort in rememberance.) I didn't know how good I had it but I did know that it was not good parenting to bite one's new stepdauthers' heads off every morning. So I learned to hold my tongue, fake a smile, and nod a lot before I got the first cup of joe on board.
Then along came Eddie, the Sleepless. They warn you about the restless nights of having a new baby. But nobody can really prepare you. And my new baby did not grow out of it. He was gassy and uncomfortable and AWAKE almost all of his life. I learned to be a champ at getting up early. But in the wee hours of the morning, from about 2:30 to 4, I still am a total wimp. I've tried to rally, but that is just how it is. Again, although I have no medical proof, I'm thinking there is something hinky with my seratonin. I'm really very nearly suicidal if you wake me up at 3 a.m.
God does send us perfect partners if we will wait for them. There have been times when I have seriously questioned my discernment when it comes to God's choice for my spouse; we have our issues. But then I remember that he got up at 3 a.m. with the babies, ALL the babies, without so much as a grumble 99.9% of the time and I say a little prayer of thanks. This morning that is fresh on my mind as Baby Girl had a very restless night. I stayed up with her until nearly 4, then felt the "just shoot me" tiredness creeping in. I started to just buckle in and stay the distance, but then remembered I'm not alone in this thing. So I woke up Phillip. He got up without complaint and with a smile for his youngest. I went to bed.
Baby Boy woke up at 6:45. I'm tired but I have a cup of coffee on one side and my Bible on the other. I'm meditating on Psalm 90 this morning which says in verses 14-16: "Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble. May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children." Other translations use the word "lovingkindness" in lieu of "unfailing love."
I like that word: lovingkindness. It's all over the Psalms and often used in conjunction with the morning. I like to think maybe King David wasn't a morning person either; that he needed to seek God's lovingkindness first thing in the morning because, like me, he had little on his own. But he knew what he had to do about it: just pray. And what a prayer! That we be so satisfied by God's love that we sing for joy and are glad, even for the not-so-good years.
It is my prayer this morning and it is effective! I am running on about three hours sleep and one cup of coffee but I'm not just functional, I'm elated. I'm singing for joy for all the things God has done in my life, whether they seemed like a blessing or an affliction, the years of trouble as well as the years of plenty. I see His splendor. God is good, all the time, and it is my prayer that you too hear His lovingkindness this morning, that you declare it, and that you are more than satisfied.