Saturday Mornings...

This photo is from a while ago. But it is a morning that I want to replay weekly.

Maybe this weekend.

We don’t have much planned for Saturday and that’s the way I like it. All of us survive better during the week if we get our day of rest (and I get in my trip to the thrift store... that closes by noon!). I think that quiet, contemplative, early-morning Saturday with a journal, a carafe of french-pressed coffee and a homemade cinnamon roll is a good way to spend eternity.

My grandma used to say, “Now, let’s wake up slowly.” She has this wonderful little mobile home that we used to go stay at on weekends, holidays and vacations— the last hour of the drive used to be all open spaces, big sky, amazing hills with cacti and low shrubs— it was magical to me. I still get this fairy-dust feeling in my stomach when we drive down to her house (now it’s from my parents house. The commute from Iowa is a tad longer...). A smile creeps up across my face, whether I mean it to or not.

As a little girl (and let’s be honest... as a teenager), I’d crawl in bed next to her (because Grandpa was always awake, dressed and busied with some project. I never remember him to be idle— and never over busy). I’d snuggle next to her and when I’d wiggle she’d pat my shoulder and say, “Now, lets just wake up slowly. Slowly, slowly.” Then I thought she just wanted me to stop wiggling, and in some ways she probably did. But the air of what she said calmed me.

I understand what she meant now. We have nothing to do today but treasure it— we’ll eat together, laugh together, sit together and just be together. So let’s wake up slowly.