Before Coffee, Before Chaos
Letting God, Not The Monkey, Lead the Morning
Morning Thoughts Are Not Always Safe
Some neighborhoods are better entered with company.
A friend recently said something that made me laugh—and then pause:
“In the morning, when I awake, I ask God to get into my head before I do.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
I’ve joked for years that my mind can be like a bad neighborhood—it’s not safe to go in there alone.
Being diagnosed with ADHD, I sometimes tell people my brain can feel like a monkey on meth—swinging from thought to thought at lightning speed before my feet even hit the floor.
And mornings? That’s when the monkey wakes up early!
Before I’m fully conscious, my mind is already sprinting:
What didn’t I get done yesterday?
What needs to happen today?
Why is my calendar full?
And—most importantly—where did I put my keys this time?
When the Mind Runs Ahead of the Soul
Activity doesn’t equal clarity.
That early-morning rush feels productive, but it’s rarely peaceful.
My mind moves faster than my heart can keep up with, and without realizing it, I’m living from urgency instead of union.
Left unchecked, my thoughts don’t lead me toward love—they lead me toward pressure.
Toward self-reliance.
Toward worry disguised as responsibility.
And I’ve learned this the hard way:
My peace does not come from organizing my thoughts.
It comes from surrendering them.
Letting Abba Speak First
Peace comes from Presence, not planning.
So now, before I scroll, strategize, or solve anything, I try to do something simple:
I invite Abba Father in first.
Sometimes it’s just a quiet,
“Good morning. I need You.”
Other times it’s,
“Please get into my head before I do.”
And every time, I’m reminded of something holy:
God isn’t surprised by my thoughts.
He isn’t threatened by my chaos.
He isn’t annoyed by my wandering attention.
He simply draws near.
His voice slows the rush.
His presence steadies the swirl.
His love reminds me I don’t have to earn peace—I receive it.
From Racing Thoughts to Rested Trust
Hope grows where love leads.
When Abba speaks first, everything else falls into place.
Not because my to-do list disappears—but because it stops being my master.
I’m filled with His purpose instead of pressure.
Led by His voice instead of my anxiety.
Calmed by His presence instead of driven by urgency.
Anchored in the hope of His goodness instead of the fear of forgetting something.
The monkey still shows up some mornings.
But he no longer runs the neighborhood.
A Gentle Invitation
You don’t have to enter your thoughts alone.
If your mind races ahead of your body…
If mornings feel loud before they feel holy…
If your peace feels fragile before coffee…
You’re not broken.
You’re human.
And you’re invited—every morning—to let Love speak first.
Reflection