random before the sunrise

The time is 6:03 am, foreign territory to this non-morning person.  But, the smallest member of our family decided he was ready to play at 5:45 am.  I decided to sacrifice my sleep so that the husband might, hopefully the extra sleep will help him get rid of this coughing business, once and for all.  (It's not that noble of me, since 9 times out of 10, he lets me sleep)

I'm surprisingly awake right now, not even sure why.

This morning's early bird is examining the DVD case to his favorite baby Einstein and apparently formulating thoughts on it to give a review later.  He seriously looks like he's reading it over and over saying, "Oh yes, I see," and "Well, isn't that interesting?"  He's also showing signs of remorse (rubbing his eyes and yawning) for his decision to rise before the sun and even before God, for that matter.  I'm a firm believer that when I stand before God one day, I'm going to discover that He is not a morning person either and then we'll drink coffee together and watch the sunset.

I must admit that there are moments when I think it sounds lovely to be one of those crazy's called morning people, if not for the idea of starting the day with a long run and the sunrise, reading the newspaper in the silence of the moment.  That does sound nice, but it rarely sounds nicer than staying nice and cozy under my covers.  Besides, the husband is a morning person and I know he treasures his few hours before the sun shows his face to the world. I couldn't take that away from him.

It's raining, I adore the rain.  I find it poetic, enchanting, and refreshing.  It always, always reminds me of a scene from my all-time favorite book, My Name is Asher Lev, Chaim Potok.  Have you read it?  It's marvelous, artistic, emotional, thoughtful, and even a bit unruly (all my favorite things.)  In this scene, Asher watches the rain falling through his window and wonders why people don't want him to use his gift of art.

Look at the rain on the window.  The mashpia was saying something but I did not want to listen to him any more.  It's raining in sharp diagonals to the verticals and horizontals of the window.  Look at those slashing diagonals.  The mashpia was saying something about Vienna but I would not listen.  The darkness was gone from the street and I could see the trees beneath the lashing rain.  The rain moved in waterfalls across the asphalt.  The curbs were flooded with rushing streams of dark water.  Oh, if I could paint this, I thought, Ribbono Shel Olom (Master of the Universe), if I could paint this world, this clean world of rain and patterns on glass, and trees on my street, and people beneath the trees.  I would even paint and draw pain and suffering if I could paint and draw the others, too.  I would paint the rain as tears and I would paint the rain as waters of purification.  (page 134-135)

I just love it.  It makes me want to paint, especially the rain.  Maybe I'll paint today. Maybe I start reading it again, I can't quite remember how many times I have read it.  But, I'm pretty much reading way too many books to start another, or am I?  What are you reading?  Here's my list:

1. The Gospel According to Starbucks, Leonard Sweet
2. Wide Awake, Erwin McManus
3. A Million Millions in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller
4. Marley & Me, John Grogan
5. The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne

Yes, I'm seriously reading all those books and there are four immediate books that I want to be reading.

Do I have problems?  Am I the only one?

Well, I hope you enjoyed this large dose of random before the sunrise.  I'm impressed that I composed anything more than the words, I need coffee.

Oh, I need coffee.