I have been pondering the idea of living one’s dreams and realize that I have been so content everywhere, through everything because my dream is him. And every minute of every day, shared anywhere, through anything is fine with me, because he is with me, loving me, and being mine, and sharing it all, making life, thriving, surviving, struggling, hurting, traveling, serving, staying home or going to Rome–it really doesn’t matter. My dream is fulfilled every morning, waking up together anywhere, because we have this day, by God’s grace, together.
There is no better dream that the one I’m living. After almost 25 years of marriage, I’ve known him for 32 sweet years of my 46, and I can say our love is everything that God created love on this earth to be. The sweetest parable of the love of Jesus Christ with His Bride. Like Ephesians 5 says that marriage should be.
Morning mist and autumn skies
Summer passing in your eyes
I light a fire, and start the coffee brewing
I am up, and you sleep in,
I’ve kissed you twice
When the coffee’s hot and mine is sweet
With honey, sugar, caramel, chocolate or maple
It doesn’t matter to me, any kind of sweet will do, and I’d even take my coffee black
If I could quickly crawl
back in bed with you.
The children sleep, just eight are here,
The other seven are world travelers now,
Somehow that happened
as our life together graced this globe,
and we are here just staying warm and true
‘Cause every dream I ever had was found
In another morning coffee cup with you.
It means we have another day,
and it tells me of last night,
When you were snuggled by my heart
And I turned out the lights
And you were first to fall asleep
Asking me to bring another blanket
Where did it go,
when we kicked it off last spring?
I kept you warm, I always do,
it’s mutual, it’s loving you,
and living every day like it’s a dream
It isn’t what I thought or what it seems
But every morning coffee that we share
Reminds me that we made it through
the darkest nights, the blood, the hope, the tears,
the baby cries, the sleepless years,
the morning flights, the silly fights,
the love, the loss, the pain.
The seasons change.
We have seen the winter pass from island sand
and I’ve run barefoot through the snow holding your hand,
and it didn’t really matter, come what may,
’cause every morning coffee shared with you
is testimony to another dream come true.
‘Cause every morning coffee that we share
is the story of another night with you.