Early Morning in East Tennessee

Daybreak has quickly become my favorite part of the day. Each morning I wake up, easier than I ever have in my life, walk quietly down the stairs to a room closed in to the rest of the world. I start opening the blinds to the some ten windows downstairs in the home I grew up in, each letting in the subtle sunlight that brings me such hope and excitement of a new day. As I head toward the back of the house, I open the blinds of three key windows which give me a new smirk and light to my eyes every time. The view of our backyard could not be more beautiful at 7 am. The sun peaks through the sloping field with orange haze as it hits the fence line, not atypically lined with horses and dew. I cannot help but praise God for His renewed mercies, asking Him to renew my mind as I start a new day.
Days can be hard in this season as we trust God to raise all of our financial support through friends, relatives, business connections, new acquaintances, etc. Getting to Denver is a journey in and of itself, learning how to wait on the Lord for His provision. Some days hold great promise, while others continue the waiting game. I have a hard time being still in general, but God has caused my heart to be ok with less structure and a faith-based dependence (as opposed to a merit-based, competitive lifestyle). Our days are not dictated by a definite schedule or even what I can achieve on my to-do list. My heart wants to feel guilty when the bulk of my work for the day happens over a span of 1 hour. It just about kills me not to work an 8-10 hour day, striving and throwing my accomplishments at God's feet.
Yet, in these early mornings, God reminds that He "desires mercy, not sacrifice." Austin and I have recently started studying the book of Hosea. Constantly reminded of looking to other gods to provide for me, the Lord reminds me that it was, is, and will be Him who provides. Jehovah Jireh. Our Provider. He desires mercy, not sacrifice. We cannot earn our lot in life, just like we cannot earn our salvation. How freeing. How confusing in the midst of this world. Yet, I'll go with whatever Jesus says. Even if it's upside down.
The daybreak, new dew on the ground, subtle orange sunlight tipping over the ridge-spilling into our humble valley in east tennessee. Jesus, pour your mercy into my heart like this valley. Remind me of our constant mercy and provision. May I finally get it. That you desire mercy, not sacrifice. Your mercies are new every morning.