I didn't think Super Cooper the Wonder Dog and I would get a walk today. Last night's forecast was calling for nearly a 100% chance of rain this morning, so I figured we'd be spending our Sunday staring out the window instead of wandering the neighborhood.
Then I woke up at 4:00 a.m., wide awake for no good reason other than apparently my internal clock had clocked in early. I checked the weather and suddenly the forecast had backed off to only a small chance of rain. I've learned over the years that sometimes you've got to seize the blessings when they appear, especially the unexpected ones.
So I started the coffee pot ahead of schedule, and by 4:30 a.m. Super Cooper and I were out the door. It was a little windy, but otherwise it was one of those perfect, quiet walks that remind you how much peace exists before most of the world wakes up.
Now I'm sitting here enjoying a fresh cup of New Mexico Piñon Coffee and watching the Sunday morning gospel lineup that helps get my soul pointed in the right direction: Dr. Merritt, Dr. Jeremiah, Amazing Facts, and Father Cedric Pisegna. There is something comforting about beginning the day with good coffee, good teaching, and a reminder that God is still on the throne despite what the headlines might suggest.
This morning's soundtrack is a gospel 45 that I don't even remember buying. That's one of the hazards of being a record collector. Sometimes I can tell you the exact place, date, and price of a record I purchased twenty years ago. Other times I'm digging through one of my many undocumented boxes and find something that makes me stop and ask, "How long have I had this?"
I always pick up gospel 45s when I find them. Sometimes, just based on the artist's name or label, it's about a 50-50 chance whether it turns out to be a Black Gospel record. In the case of this one, I had a good feeling about it because it was recorded at Mark Five Studios in Greenville, South Carolina. I've come across a few great records from that studio over the years to know that when I see that name, it's worth paying attention.
That's part of the joy of collecting. Every record is a little mystery waiting to be solved. Some are valuable. Some are rare. Some are neither. But every now and then one surprises you and becomes the perfect soundtrack for a Sunday morning.
These early Sunday mornings are becoming some of my favorite moments in life. Good coffee. A good spiritual word. A faithful dog by my side. And wonderful, obscure gospel 45s that have somehow waited decades to be heard again.
The older I get, the more I realize that happiness isn't usually hiding in the big moments. It's tucked away in these quiet hours before sunrise, when gratitude arrives unannounced and God's blessings sound remarkably like a scratchy gospel record spinning at 45 RPM.
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