Coffee, sweet music, and a moment of comfort.

Before the colors.
Before the shift to deep purple.
Before the floaters and the voice of my best friend—

There was music.

I sat with my stepdad, sharing a slow and beautiful morning over coffee. Sweet music filled the room—songs from Chicago, full of brass and soul, and tracks from A Flock of Seagulls, echoing with memories and light. We thought about putting on Phil Collins, but the mood was already perfect. So we stayed with Chicago. And Flock of Seagulls.

We talked, relaxed, and just let the songs take us somewhere softer.

There was no rush. Just warmth. And comfort.
It wrapped around me like a gentle blanket before the day even began.

That space—between conversation and music, between peace and presence—carried into everything that followed. When the purple came, it didn’t feel sudden. It felt like a continuation. Like the music had laid the path for forgiveness, softness, and connection to flow through me.

It reminded me that even the smallest things—like coffee and a saxophone solo—can prepare your heart for something deeper.

🕊️ A Prayer

Lord,
Thank You for the quiet moments that prepare my heart.
Thank You for the music, the coffee, and the people who bring light into my life.
Let the peace I felt this morning stay with me through all the shifts of the day.
Let it carry through the colors, the memories, and the meaning.
Surround me and those I love with warmth, comfort, and clarity.
And remind us that even in a changing world, You never change.
Amen. 💜

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