The idea of preparing the tea room for use delighted - and still, when I sub in, delights - me. The concept that no business can be done in the day until darkness is dispelled resonates with me. The very ritual of walking through the shadowy, expectant tea rooms, watching the light sunrise across the floor, soothes me. Teacups and centerpieces wait, grey in the shadows, until all becomes shining chinaware and gleaming tabletops. Because before one can actually enjoy a proper tea time, she must be able to see her instruments of use, right?
Just as the poetry of such a task gives me great pleasure, it also instills a desire to echo these preparations in my soul's morning. Before I can be about my business for the day, shouldn't I cultivate the discipline of dispelling shadows? To know the wall switches that give over-all perspective for my day's tasks; to search out the dark corners of moodiness, selfishness, or discontentment and brighten them with a light the color of my Savior's love; to sparkle the otherwise-unremarkable moments and mentalities with unexpected strands of hope - this is the way I want to prepare each morning, in the rooms of my soul, before my feet even hit the floor. Responses and attitudes lurk ambiguously, until the surrendering of my "rights" and priorities to the LORD sharpens them into brilliant clarity. Because before one can truly live a light-steeped life, she must plug into its source, right?
Photo Credit: Young, Megan. teacup. 4 March 2013. Flickr Creative Commons.