I awoke this morning with my heavy comforter pulled up under my chin, my dog asleep at the end of the bed, his head resting on my feet.  I felt a cool breeze blown through my open windows and being tossed around by the spinning ceiling fan.  The sun was just rising and my alarm went off with my voice memo saying: Glory to Jesus.  I had a strange, quick little fantasy that I was at that moment saying 'Glory To Jesus' as I woke up from bed and began laughing at the thought of me saying it in my sleep - but it was just my alarm.

I jumped out of bed without letting myself think about it - a dangerous thing that, if you let yourself think or even consider staying in bed for five more minutes the battle is over and you may as well set your alarm for two hours later.  Letting my dog out on my way to brush my teeth, I put on my robe and went down stairs with my massive laundry bag slung over my shoulder.  Tuesday, my laundry day.  All those dirty clothes saved up through out the week formed a big enough pile it would take me three loads to finish it.

I found my dad in his usual spot, sitting in the family room on the end of the couch, laptop in front of him, Bible and about 3 journals beside him - the dogs head draped over his feet.

I greeted him 'Good morning!' he looked up and said 'Morning! How are you?'

'I'm okay thanks. How are you?'

'Doin' good for an old guy.'

I laughed.

'You look like Santa Claus,'  he stated, randomly. I laughed at that too.

Dumping my laundry bag on the floor of the laundry room I dreaded opening the lid of the washing machine.  A pile of clothes on the floor warned me that the rest of the family had forgotten that it was Tuesday, Emily's laundry day.  Gathering up my courage I opened the lid to the washing machine. 
At least it's done running, thought I.  Bravely, I stepped toward the dryer, full to the brim. 
But with dry clothes, I thankfully reminded myself.  I figured the family would remember their washed and dried clothes sometime during  today, so I waited to begin my 3 loads.

The coffee pot was gloriously full as I picked it up from it's burner and poured a beautiful mug full of rich, filtered coffee.  I poured cold milk into the mug and watched white mix with the black in swirls to form a welcoming, dark tan, inviting my mouth. 

Pulling my robe tighter around me I opened the door to the garage.  Abby, our outside dog, was lying on the rug just beneath the door still asleep.  The garage door was still shut and I came to the realization that I was the first one to greet Abby today.  She jumped up as soon as the door opened and gave me a great whine and several licks as if to say, 'Good Morning! Good Morning!! It's a new day, a new day!! Hallelujiah, let's praise our Creator!'

I pressed the large, square button that opens the garage door and without thinking twice Abby embraced the new day.  She was still sleepy as she stepped into the gray morning, the sun on the rise.  Her eyes were small, but her lips formed a cheerful smile and she looked happy.  Although she is gaining age by the day, she isn't lacking in life.  Her bones are beginning to creak and she can't run like she used to, but her eyes are still as bright as they ever were, her spirit not lacking in zeal. 

I began my prayer walk barefoot, Abby's encouraging presence beside, in front, or behind me(depending on what she was smelling at that moment), my coffee mug in hand, and the sun greeting me over the horizon, bringing me hope in a brand new day.