Sundays begin quite early in our home. Pastor Husband wakes up before it's bright and extremely early. I fall in and out of sleep as I hear him go through the process of starting our day. There's the alarm, not blaring, but loud enough to tell me that it's a new day and also makes me wonder why it was going off and then I remember it was Sunday. Then he lies in bed and this again makes me wonder if it's really Sunday. The shower is the next sound that I am cognizant of, but it's pleasant enough to bring back sleep for me and I'm in a pretty deep sleep until I hear the click of the coffee pot as it's removed from the contraption it sits in - kitchen faucet is next as the coffee pot is filled along with all it's clicks and clacks as Pastor Husband fills this part, empties that part, and then the beautiful, magical "on" button is pressed. This sound is welcoming yet it also reminds me that it's almost time for me to wake up. It's worth it though because once the tiny-I'm-finished-brewing-beep goes off, my dear Pastor Husband comes to my side of the bed with a kiss and a hot cup of coffee.
How else would I ever want to start a morning.
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