My Time

I grew up in a large family, and had a large family of my own, and rarely did I have time to call my own. So I became a night owl.
It started when I was growing up, with summer contests of who could stay up the latest, as we all fell asleep in front of the test pattern after the late-late movie ended.
In my early teens I tried to stay up as late as my oldest sister, which was the middle of the night. I learned to love quiet hours I had it to myself.
In college I would schedule classes late, so I could stay up after my roommates went to bed.
When I had children of my own, the ONLY time I had to myself was late at night. When they were older, I sometimes let one or two or three of them stay up for quiet late-night talks. Those were good times.
I seem to wake up when the sun goes down, when the kids go down, when the phone stops ringing. My mind seems to clear. Somehow I find myself in those quiet hours. It certainly is when I can think and pray and feel the Spirit.
The kids are grown and gone, my nest is empty, and I still go to bed after 1:00 most nights.
They say it’s just habit, that it can be changed. Maybe because my body has done it for so long, I don’t think so.
Perhaps in my previous life I was an owl. Perhaps, if you listen, you might even hear me hoot.