Devotional
I’m an early riser, especially on school mornings. I rise with a dual purpose—retirement in the traditional Quaker sense of prayer and reflection, and preparation in the schoolteacher sense of getting ready to face classes full of eager, and not so eager, minds.
For the last decade a predawn walk with Sasha, a joyous dog, separated my prayer time and stepping into whatever the day held. Whether reflective contemplation or a more worldly grocery list of things to do, making sure I switched gears was Sasha’s job.
Coming downstairs, Sasha is ahead of me by the door, waiting, using up every jot and tittle of patience. Last button. Good to go. Thank you very much. Now. Right now. What’s the hold up? Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! If I stop to put up the coffee or linger on a task that’s not putting on shoes and jacket, she’s whining and dancing and giving me pleading, demanding looks meant to produce perhaps a combination of guilt and speed.
Once outside she’s calm and focused on the task at hand. We’re together, but apart. She’ll brush her snout on my hand occasionally to say hello, and if there is something particularly exciting she’ll let me know, but for the most part I’m walking, watching the stars and the changing silhouettes of the trees against the early morning. She has her nose to the ground, smelling the new smells and checking favorite spots.
While I’m opposed to the personification of pets, the pet-sonification of people is an entirely different matter. And it occurs to me how like Sasha I am. I become so impatient when the Divine feels remote or slow with things not happening in a timeframe I deem appropriate. A friend says that when she is feeling separated from God she looks to where she has put up barriers. I agree with that sentiment, but I find myself, like Sasha, prancing impatiently by the door of faithfulness—“Here I am! Let’s get going!” Then, in the times that I feel connected and experience the Presence, I bask in it. I go about my activities and projects, walking paths of faithfulness; just sensing God’s presence is enough.
Yes, I stumble, but coming to know the Divine in my life pales the falters and the fumbles. I am grateful, and as corny and unsophisticated as it might seem I, like David, am filled with praise and thanksgiving: “Thank you! Everything in me says ‘Thank you!’ Angels listen as I sing my thanks. I kneel in worship facing your holy temple and say it again: ‘Thank you!’ Thank you for your love, thank you for your faithfulness; Most holy is your name, most holy is your word. The moment I called out, you stepped in; you made my life large with strength.” (Psalm 138, The Message)
My life spirals closer and closer to the Center in concentric circles towards God’s presence. The journey carries twinkling wonder, gifts of grace, and glints of wholeness. It is also has a good measure of loneliness, icy winds and self-doubt. Surely, in this slide toward faithfulness, I falter as much as I’m successful. But, wax or wane, every morning holds new opportunities, and I start by offering up the day and committing to faithfulness.
Requests
I’m an early riser, especially on school mornings. I rise with a dual purpose—retirement in the traditional Quaker sense of prayer and reflection, and preparation in the schoolteacher sense of getting ready to face classes full of eager, and not so eager, minds.
For the last decade a predawn walk with Sasha, a joyous dog, separated my prayer time and stepping into whatever the day held. Whether reflective contemplation or a more worldly grocery list of things to do, making sure I switched gears was Sasha’s job.
Coming downstairs, Sasha is ahead of me by the door, waiting, using up every jot and tittle of patience. Last button. Good to go. Thank you very much. Now. Right now. What’s the hold up? Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! If I stop to put up the coffee or linger on a task that’s not putting on shoes and jacket, she’s whining and dancing and giving me pleading, demanding looks meant to produce perhaps a combination of guilt and speed.
Once outside she’s calm and focused on the task at hand. We’re together, but apart. She’ll brush her snout on my hand occasionally to say hello, and if there is something particularly exciting she’ll let me know, but for the most part I’m walking, watching the stars and the changing silhouettes of the trees against the early morning. She has her nose to the ground, smelling the new smells and checking favorite spots.
While I’m opposed to the personification of pets, the pet-sonification of people is an entirely different matter. And it occurs to me how like Sasha I am. I become so impatient when the Divine feels remote or slow with things not happening in a timeframe I deem appropriate. A friend says that when she is feeling separated from God she looks to where she has put up barriers. I agree with that sentiment, but I find myself, like Sasha, prancing impatiently by the door of faithfulness—“Here I am! Let’s get going!” Then, in the times that I feel connected and experience the Presence, I bask in it. I go about my activities and projects, walking paths of faithfulness; just sensing God’s presence is enough.
Yes, I stumble, but coming to know the Divine in my life pales the falters and the fumbles. I am grateful, and as corny and unsophisticated as it might seem I, like David, am filled with praise and thanksgiving: “Thank you! Everything in me says ‘Thank you!’ Angels listen as I sing my thanks. I kneel in worship facing your holy temple and say it again: ‘Thank you!’ Thank you for your love, thank you for your faithfulness; Most holy is your name, most holy is your word. The moment I called out, you stepped in; you made my life large with strength.” (Psalm 138, The Message)
My life spirals closer and closer to the Center in concentric circles towards God’s presence. The journey carries twinkling wonder, gifts of grace, and glints of wholeness. It is also has a good measure of loneliness, icy winds and self-doubt. Surely, in this slide toward faithfulness, I falter as much as I’m successful. But, wax or wane, every morning holds new opportunities, and I start by offering up the day and committing to faithfulness.
Requests
- Pray for the FUM General Board as they meet in session thru Saturday that the blessed Spirit they have experienced during the early parts of the week will continue as they seek to be faithful to the call God has placed on FUM.
- From the Barbers at Friends Boys School in Belize: “The following are our praises in Belize. We have added two new students this week bringing us up to 14. We pray that God will continue to bless us with a good class. We also praise God for the spirit of unity that is developing among our students this year. We pray that the facilitators from AVP (Alternative to Violence Program) have safe travels to us this weekend. Two are traveling from the U.S. and one from San Ignacio, Belize. We pray they will help us to teach our kids how to react in nonviolent ways.”
- Give thanks for the people preparing for CPT’s 25th Anniversary Congress, taking place Oct. 13-16 in Evanston, Illinois. Pray that the event will transform and strengthen partnerships and inspire all in their work for peace and justice.
- Pray we come to love each other as brothers and sisters even when are brothers and sisters are different or wrong.
