quiet mornings

I need more of these kind of Saturday mornings as I sit upstairs in a bed and breakfast in a small Wisconsin town full from a great breakfast with a warm cup of coffee and absolutely no plans but to hang out with my wife and read more of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. One of the most amazing thing about our last get-away before the baby is how quiet it is compared to Chicago. You know, that kind of quietness in which you can hear the white noise of blood flowing past your ears. The kind of quietness that leaves you alone in your thoughts...

Speaking of thoughts:
-I love finding random restaurants in random places. Last night Bekah and I ended up at a small Bistro that had live jazz music. Good times.
-I think people (including me) underestimate the beauty of a good book that makes tv seem boring.
-It is amazing to watch people respond to Haiti. Why is it that it takes something so horrible to unit Americans who otherwise continue to nit-pick each other about everything else?
-Speaking of Haiti, the country is buzzing about Pat Robertsons' comments about the earthquake as he inferred that the Haitians made a deal with the devil and therefore have caused the wrath of the Lord. My simple reply to Pat? Romans 11:33-34: "O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, and his ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been His counselor?" Be careful Pat, as I am pretty sure you and I don't know His ways.
-The other day on the train coming home from work a young mom was on her cell phone while her young daughter was trying to get her attention. In response, the mother yelled very loudly and coldly to "shut the f*ck up!" taking all the spirit out of her daughter and causing all of us to raise our eyes from our books wanting to do something, but feeling powerless. I hate that feeling as I prayed for the small family and exited the train to transfer to another one watching my original train move on with a mom talking on a cell phone and a little girl staring out a window.

It is on these quiet mornings that I think of that little girl in her pink coat and pigtails wondering where she is at and why my childhood was drastically different.
It is on these quiet mornings I wonder about the families in Haiti.
It is on these quiet mornings I wonder why I don't have more of these quiet mornings.