If I'm not awake to see the sunrise, I feel like the day starts in chaos and I spend most of it struggling to catch up. The still quiet when it feels like everything and everyone is still at rest, save a few deer who wander close to the house, makes connecting with God feel like the most natural thing. I slip into prayer easier. I ponder the wonder of Him more readily. I even feel more open to His teaching.
Sometimes the only "grown up" conversations Tim and I have happen in the morning before the girls are up. In the evenings we are exhausted from the trials of the day and the seemingly unending bedtime rituals. Make no mistake - we cherish bedtime. We know the day is fast approaching when they don't want to read a story together, or be tickled until tears threaten the edges of their vision, or when "Mommy lay down me" isn't Victoria's last request of the day. Yet it is still draining when they are clumsily bouncing around on the verge of an ER visit trying every excuse imaginable (and then some) to prevent themselves from relaxing and dare I say falling asleep.
When they were infants and still kept us up more at night (now it is such a rarity I often wake in a state of heart-pounding confusion) I remember the edge of dawn being a chance, even though I was tired, to start over. Everything seems new in the morning. No one has cried. No one has done something they regret or have to apologize for. The dew is still on the grass and the heat is not yet bearing down oppressively as if it had weight over everything.
The morning is like holding hands with God for a moment. Securely. Sure that He won't let go, and not wanting to let go yourself. More often than not the rest of the day feels like grasping and reaching trying to keep that connection going. So ... I like mornings best.