Morning Coffee
I’ve stopped rushing my mornings.
For years, I treated my first cup of coffee like a starting gun. Drink it quickly. Check the list. Move on to the next thing.
Now I try to do the opposite.
I sit down. I look out the window. I let the house wake up slowly around me.
The coffee isn’t really the point.
The pause is.
Some of the sweetest moments in a day happen before the world begins asking anything of us. A warm cup, a quiet room, and a few peaceful minutes can set the tone for everything that follows.
I’ve learned that not every moment needs to be productive to be valuable.
Sometimes it is enough just to sit and enjoy the morning.🤍
Bible Study
There was a time when I treated Bible reading like another item on a checklist. Read a chapter. Check it off. Move on to the next thing.
But somewhere along the way, I realized that God’s Word was never meant to be rushed through.
These days, I linger a little longer. I underline verses. I scribble notes in the margins. I follow a thought down the page and let Scripture explain Scripture. Sometimes I spend an entire morning with just a few verses.
The dishes can wait a few more minutes.
The laundry will still be there.
The world will keep spinning.
But these quiet moments with an open Bible and a warm cup beside me remind me what matters most.
I refuse to rush through the very thing that gives peace to the rest of my day.
Journaling
There was a time when I thought journaling had to be productive.
I thought every page needed a purpose. A plan. A list. A goal.
Now, I refuse to rush it.
Some mornings I fill several pages. Other mornings I write only a sentence. Sometimes I tuck in a receipt, a pressed flower, or a note from one of the grandchildren. Sometimes I simply sit with a cup of coffee and turn the pages I’ve already written.
Journaling has become less about recording my life and more about noticing it.
The pages remind me that ordinary days are worth remembering. The sunlight across the kitchen table. The sound of rain on the roof. A conversation that made me smile. A verse that stayed with me long after Bible study was over.
Those things are easy to miss when we’re hurrying.
The world tells us to move faster. My journal reminds me to slow down long enough to see what God has already placed in front of me.
And some things deserve to be noticed before they disappear.
I refuse to rush the keeping of memories. They are the chapters that become a life.
Preparing Simple Meals
This is another thing I refuse to rush.
Not because every meal needs to be elaborate, but because feeding ourselves is one of the most ordinary ways we care for the people God has given us.
A simple salad. A loaf of bread. Soup simmering on the stove. A handful of vegetables chopped on a quiet afternoon.
These things rarely make headlines, yet they quietly shape the rhythm of a home.
For years I treated meal preparation like something to hurry through so I could get on to the “important” things. Now I see it differently.
The important things are often hidden inside the ordinary ones.
A simple meal prepared with care can nourish more than a body. It creates a place for conversation, rest, gratitude, and togetherness.
So I refuse to rush the chopping, the stirring, the setting of the table, or the gathering that follows.
Some of life’s sweetest moments arrive disguised as everyday meals.
The food doesn’t have to be fancy. The love that prepares it is what people remember. 🤍🧺🥖🌿
Creative work is one of the first things I used to rush—and one of the first things to lose its joy because of it.
Somewhere along the way, I started treating creativity like a task to finish instead of a gift to enjoy. I hurried through journal pages, rushed blog posts, and worried more about checking things off a list than savoring the process.
These days, I refuse to rush creative work.
I linger over a notebook page. I move photographs around until they feel right. I sit with a cup of coffee and let ideas arrive in their own time. Some days that means writing several pages. Other days it means simply gathering inspiration and dreaming about future projects.
Creativity was never meant to be a race. It was meant to be a place to breathe.
The older I get, the more I believe that slow creativity leaves room for gratitude, beauty, and joy to find their way into the work.
Perhaps growing older is teaching me that not everything needs to be done faster.
The coffee tastes the same whether I drink it in five minutes or twenty. The Bible still speaks when I slow down long enough to listen. A journal page doesn’t need to be finished in one sitting. A simple meal shared around the table is no less meaningful because it took a little longer to prepare.
For years, I thought the goal was efficiency.
Now I think the goal is presence.
So these are the things I refuse to rush anymore.
Morning coffee.
Time with God.
Journaling.
Simple meals.
Creative work.
The small, ordinary moments that quietly become a life.
And maybe that’s the lesson I’m still learning: the things that matter most are rarely asking us to hurry.
They’re simply asking us to be there.
Until next time,
Melissa
Lambert Cottage — Where every chapter holds a story.
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