How mysterious is the love of God that rouses us even in our weakness. “The Lord upholds all who fall and raises all who are bowed down” (Psalm 145). In the silence of early morning, one feels the truth of these words not as doctrine but as presence. He who neither slumbers nor sleeps keeps watch over His child (Psalm 121). Even in the stillness of rest, His Spirit breathes within us. To awaken with gratitude is to recognize that our very existence is upheld by mercy, that our breath and our being are sustained moment by moment by His will of love.
In the Psalms, thanksgiving is never separate from remembrance. The soul recalls the countless deliverances of the Lord; how He drew us out of the deep waters, how He turned mourning into dancing, how He restored our soul when all seemed lost. “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits” (Psalm 103). When the memory of His past mercies fills the heart, faith is born anew. Gratitude becomes the purest form of prayer, the fragrance that rises from the altar of the heart even before the lips can speak.
Such gratitude transforms the day before it begins. The one who awakes with thanksgiving already walks in the light. Even sorrow or fatigue becomes a hidden offering. “O Lord, You are my strength, my song, and my salvation” (Psalm 118). Every trial, every uncertainty, every breath can be transfigured into praise when the soul lives in remembrance of His mercy.
To awaken early, moved by joy and gratitude, is to share in the rhythm of creation itself, which never ceases to praise its Maker. “From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised” (Psalm 113). The dawn becomes a sacrament of renewal, the silent witness to the faithfulness of God who makes all things new.
So let the heart rise before the sun, and let thanksgiving be its first utterance. For in the early hour when light first touches the world, the soul glimpses what the psalmist knew so well, that mercy is the morning star, and gratitude its song.

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