In the Stillness and the Hope

New students arrive at school today and I thought of them as I took in the morning's stillness.  I am an early riser once school starts, awakening just after 5:30 am.  The sun is rising later and later these days and so there was just a faint line of light at the horizon as a I drank my coffee, breathed in the quiet chirp of the birds, and embraced the peace.

Then I heard a neighbor's alarm clock ring.  Second later, a roaring plane flew overhead.  The spell was broken.  I stepped back inside and poured a second cup of coffee to hear news of Congress squabbling and Syrian refugees pouring into the Jordanian desert.  In just a few hours, I will meet nervous new Middle Schoolers and their anxious parents.  The real world seems to offer the persistent risk that the brief quiet peace of my morning will be quickly lost in the shuffle.

My plan for this school year is to embrace at least a few moments of the morning's quiet promise every day.  I will breathe in the air as the light comes to the horizon and hold on to the stillness as I face the day's turbulent adolescent challenge.  I will be grateful for my multiple blessings and walk back into the world prepared to live in hope.