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Before I became mildly unlawful in my efforts to get the girls to school on time

Before I realized that I had forgotten about Gigi’s Family Tree project that was due today and only half-way finished

Before the collaborative pancake-making efforts yielded a flour incident, and fights over who got to put in what, and who got to stir

And before a food coloring experiment with the pancakes caused Gabi to stomp off shouting “That’s grey. I DON’T EAT GREY!”

Before we kissed Papa off to his three-day conference in Anaheim

Before all of that…

There was stillness.

And the dawn’s light ushered in the cool breeze

And then the bird’s morning song

And a very intentional, very forced toot from somewhere within our house

And a text from a friend who was savoring the new mercies of the morning that she’d managed to find amidst the layers of a ham sandwich while recovering from an overdose of caffeine, thanks to a sleek, shiny new espresso machine which she’d bought the day prior

And then two little girls with hair in every direction came in for a good morning snuggle, and set off to select matching outfits for themselves and their American Girl dolls, and

Then showed up at the kitchen counter in plenty of time to make pancakes and then scooter to school in the oodles of extra time that we’d most assuredly have…

Leaving me, hours later, remembering the mercies of the early morning and grateful for the reminder from a friend to watch for them

Hours later still, holding them up a bit higher in my mind

And I found the subsequent unravelings to leave me not quite so bare

Yet even if I had missed it all, they’d have been flung out there anyway—millions and billions of good and perfect things

The endless displays of mercy—ageless yet new, sufficient for the day, renewed and renewing

And like the waves of an undiscovered, rustic wilderness

Persisting whether or not anyone is watching

Given recklessly, lavishly, quietly, constantly

All the while, slowly

Patiently

Creating over time

A landscape of softened stone and expectant life

Mercy upon mercy, sifting and crashing, gently reforming the place where it lands, into a shape that will someday receive its gifts more fully

Moving the immovable, it descends and transcends, refining its heir amidst the layers and layers of mercies