Today I woke up to the blaring of my alarm. I felt tired and a little grumpy. On my way out the door I noticed that the mess that was left when I went to sleep had not gone away this morning. For these reasons and more I am not a morning person. Where are my sweet little bird friends singing morning songs to wake me? Where is the pep in my morning step that causes me spring out of bed and positively beam radiant sunshine immediately? Where are my somehow-adorable rodent friends to clean my house?
I step out into the world and I see plenty of trolls, plenty of villains, and endless obstacles to overcome. But alas, there is no fairy godmother, no magical food (well maybe...), no enchanted object to speak of. Prince Charming has either gotten lost or abandoned his mission. There is only me in a dark forest. Maybe this is what fairytales are - Hans Christian Andersen nightmares. This is my fairytale so far. Sometimes, on a hard day I think I wouldn’t read this story to children.
On a better day, I realize that my story is more than this. The magic is in the fact that by God’s grace I woke up this morning. The magic is in the fact that I had a home with clothes and kitchen things - enough to make a mess. The magic is in the fact that I am able-bodied enough to walk about without any trouble. For these reasons and more I ought to be a morning person. I ought to be an all-day person.
I have a home and all the things I need. I have a loving family and beautiful friends. My little is so much. This is my fairytale so far, and God who authors it is so much greater than any fairy godmother.