Hallelujah

I woke up this morning.  Miracle, I know.  I woke up and rolled over to grab my cell phone and put the alarm on snooze.  The blue light from the screen hurt my eyes in the pre-dawn winter darkness of my room.  Have you ever noticed how much harder it is to slide out of bed in the winter when the air is chilly and you don’t have sun peeking through the blinds to help you out?    Stretching out my toes I sleepily discovered that the far corners of my bed were just as snug and cozy as the center.  I pulled the fluffy down comforter up to my ears and buried my face in my pillow.  No one was home to make me feel guilty for staying in bed a few more minutes.

 My thoughts start to soften around the edges, and I slip back into the blissful peace of a worry-free sleep.  The apartment is silent, causing me to cringe when the alarm calls to me a second time.  The song playing is “My Hallelujah Song” by Julianne Hough.  This time I listen to it for a few minutes.  “Look at me, can’t believe I finally made it here.  Feeling like I’m where I belong.  Singing my hallelujah song.”   I sigh, disable the alarm, and grab my robe.  A hot shower is not quite more time in bed, but it still sounds fairly pleasant. 

 As I go through my pre-work routine, the song keeps playing in my head.  I think about the reasons I get up in the morning; the notes in my personal hallelujah song. 

•  I have a job unlike any other.  Watching my students work, laugh, and talk makes me realize that I am blessed with a wonderful opportunity. Each day I get to interact with the bright, optimistic, humorous youth of our society whose enthusiasm for life is completely infectious.  I get to teach, learn, encourage, and inspire.  Even greater than that is the chance to view their humanity.  I know of few other jobs where you are allowed to consistently interact and really connect with so many different personalities.  It is a pleasure and a blessing to be part of their lives on a daily basis.
• I make my home in a place that is resplendent with a simple natural beauty.  Sometimes I have to just stop and breathe it all in.  The brilliant blues of my Rocky Mountains tower above valleys where cows and horses munch contentedly alongside the bends and elbows of the shimmering Snake River.  I can smell pine in the air as I rush down a mountain covered in powdery white.  Our boat skims across Blacktail Reservoir.  And after it all, I go home and watch the sun fade into darkness behind the hills.  Idaho is as much a part of me as my hazel eyes and favorite pair of blue jeans.
•  I live in comfort.  From the down comforter to a bowl of hot homemade soup or the sun making my hair feel warm against my skin, the little details of the picture I call my life all fit.  I have friends who feel like sisters, an apartment that feels like home, and a family that might as well be straight from the glossy pages of a family and parenting magazine.
•  I love and am loved.  It is easy to see in the three-page e-mails that circulate weekly between sisters in Rexburg, Logan, Provo, and here.  My roommate and I sip chocolate-banana milkshakes at 11:00 on a Tuesday night, then laugh about the last time someone thought we were sisters.  On Friday Lisa will come down from Rexburg for a slumber party.  Most importantly, I will kneel by my bed tonight and feel unseen arms surround me in the most perfect love.  I am supremely blessed to know the reality of a Father in Heaven whose greatest desire is that His children return safely to him.

 My time is up and I grab my lunch and car keys.  Ellisa’s cheery, “Have a great day!” follows me out the door, and I smile even as I scrape ice off my windshield.  Yeah, getting out of bed this morning was definitely worth it.