I forgot how much I love a morning drive. But not just any morning drive.... the early, still, dark, quiet sort.
When I was a little girl, we'd go to visit my Grandma in Arizona. We never flew. Ever. We always made the 33 hour trek by car, usually with a Bouvier and a ferret (if you've never seen a bouv, google them. Our current is 140 lbs!). My parents would take shifts driving and we'd go straight through. There was no stopping, you had better use the restroom when we stopped for gas- otherwise you were holding it until the Suburban ran out.... and that thing had a MUCH bigger tank than I did!
There was one shift I always loved. I'd be bored and tired and annoyed through all of the drive, except for one tiny slice of heaven. The 3 am- 6am segment spoke to me. It was silent, there weren't tons of cars on the road and all you could see were little clusters of lights as we drove past cities. I absolutely loved the feeling it gave me.
And I still love it to this day.
This morning I got to relive it a little bit. My (beloved) Aztek may have met her demise. She's currently sitting at an auto garage so we can get an estimate. If the number isn't (extremely) low to make her run again, she'll have to be sold for scrap. She's so old and has so many issues that it just isn't feasible to invest a ton of money into her. Her absence and my shift today made driving John to Grand Rapids for his responsibilities necessary. We left early this morning and I had a little tinge in my heart that I used to feel cruising down the desert freeway in the wee hours of the morning. It was lovely.
I decided to savor it, so here I am... instead of going back to bed for an hour I'm sitting in our little home by the illumination of our beautiful tree and writing to you. This isn't my technical blog for today, that will have to be posted when I get home from work, but it's just a little something extra.
It's such a beautiful life.
I'm thinking about that a lot this week. It hasn't been an easy week or even an easy year. In a regression to teenage angst, I exclaimed a few days ago that I "hate my life". As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized the ridiculousness of the statement. What's to hate? I have an incredible spouse... I could write volumes about John's virtues. I have a very loving and supportive family and extended family. Even in the absence of my Grandpa this season, I can still say that most people aren't blessed to have their grandparents as long as I've had mine. I have good, solid and dear friendships. I was born in a country that is free. I have been given so many countless blessings from a God who loves me unconditionally and it's a slap in the face to him to say anything other than "thank you" for the abundantly wonderful life he has granted to me.
I hope you feel the same way about your life, too. If not, take some time to consider what you've been given. If there are sour parts that choke out the joy of life, do your best to cut them out (relationships, attitudes, jobs). Ultimately it's our decision to approach life with joy or despair.
I wish you the most wonderful of days, thanks so much for reading my little early morning thoughts. I'll check back in with you in the early evening to share the lighted ornament shelf garland... and until then stay warm and content.