Make the coffee before you check your phone.
A simple morning ritual.
The phone can wait until the coffee is made.
Not forever.
Just long enough to remember that the day belonged to you before it belonged to everyone else.
Before the headlines. Before the messages. Before the little red numbers telling you how many things require your attention.
Put the water on.
Find the mug you always reach for.
Stand there while the coffee brews.
You do not need to optimize these minutes.
You just need to be in them.
Before the World Gets Loud
There is something strange about waking up and immediately finding out what everyone else is thinking.
Someone is angry.
Someone is selling you something.
Someone has already accomplished more before 6 a.m. than seems reasonable.
And you've been awake for forty-seven seconds.
Maybe that isn't how the day needs to begin.
The First Cup
Coffee is ordinary enough that we hardly notice the ritual of it.
The scoop. The water. The sound from the kitchen. The first smell that makes its way through the house.
Then the warm mug between your hands.
We repeat these small things so often they become invisible.
But perhaps that's exactly why they're worth noticing.
The ordinary things are doing more for us than we think.
You Don't Have to Do Anything Yet
You don't need to journal.
You don't need to stretch.
You don't need to read ten pages, drink lemon water, make a gratitude list or become a noticeably improved person before breakfast.
You may simply drink the coffee.
Revolutionary, apparently.
Ten Minutes Is Enough
Sit outside.
Stand at the kitchen window.
Walk through the garden.
Read a page of something good.
Pray.
Or do absolutely nothing.
Ten minutes isn't much.
But ten minutes before the world begins asking things of you can feel surprisingly large.
Let the day find you a little later.
And Then, Yes, Check the Phone
The messages will still be there.
So will the news, the calendar, the weather, the group chat and whatever happened overnight that the internet has collectively decided we must discuss immediately.
Check it.
Answer what needs answering.
Get on with the day.
The point was never to escape your life.
It was to enter it before everything else did.
Tomorrow Morning
Before you reach for the phone, make the coffee.
Open the curtains.
Notice the light.
Give yourself a few minutes in a day that hasn't happened yet.
Then begin.
The world can wait for the first cup.
A small letter for the long seasons.
Thoughtful words on faith, culture, healing, motherhood, and the ordinary beauty of a life being lived.
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