I feel myself to be in a middle place, a place of waiting. It’s uncomfortable, like there’s the tiniest pebble in the bottom of my shoe and I can’t quite shake it out. There is both restlessness and stirring. We are, of course, in the season of advent in which we wait and prepare our
Tag: faith
Be Still and Know
Today is the last Sunday in Ordinary Time. I’ve felt a tug toward Advent for weeks and yet there is wisdom in remaining in this season we call ordinary. This morning I read familiar words in the psalms: Be still and know. We quiet ourselves and rest in assurance. We remember seasons in which we
Night Presence
Night is heavy. Somehow my body knows it’s too early, in the same way it knows I’m not going to fall easily back to sleep. My mind meanders and, as much as I’d prefer not to think about that thing, it lingers there. A tear forms. I cover it in prayer and lift those others
Wrestling
I read about a man of questionable character who wrestles with God. There’s trouble behind, and trouble ahead, and Jacob is caught in one of those back-against-the-wall places where there’s nowhere left to turn. He spends a long, dark, and sleepless night at the end of himself. Dawn breaks on a day he’s been dreading, and
Called to the Deck
With a soft blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I step barefoot out onto the deck where it’s wet, dark, and quiet. I need to connect with the Divine. I felt drawn from my bed where I lay sleepless and restless, trying to pray and not sure if the muddled thoughts in my mind were prayer
Monday Mercy
It’s just after four when I stand at the microwave watching the red numbers count down from seventy-seven. The Keurig coughs and spurts out elixir behind me. Oh God, you have brought me in safety to this new day. That thing in my body that’s been causing me trouble still burns, that concern in my
Listening
I stand on the sidewalk listening to the scrape of a crisp golden leaf skating across the driveway in the wind, feeling both delighted and dismayed. I wouldn’t have heard the sound a few days ago. My sixty-year-old memory had forgotten the song of fallen autumn leaves whirling in the wind. A few weeks ago,