FALL SABBATICAL-WEDNESDAY

This morning I again settled in with a cup of tea on the front porch to watch the rain and let my mind focus on God.  Mist, like soft organza, inched its way up from between the jagged hills to return to the solid white sky, where drizzle originated unseen.

The blue spruce next to me seemed to be a stop-over for all the birds that call my home, their home.  A flock of white-throated sparrows hopped in the branches for awhile, then moved on.  Several cardinals, among other species, passed through, too.  But one lone mockingbird remained, dominating the air waves with a strange, singular screech.  Maybe this was one of a pair of mockingbirds that nested in the tree in spring, so close to the edge you could see them from the porch swing bringing in nesting materials.  By early June they were prematurely gone, no eggs no nestlings or at least none that survived.  A mystery.

 

During this time of contemplation, I've been reading through a book called, The Still Point, which has short, weekly readings for meditation - an opening prayer, several scriptures, excerpts from books, some poetry and a closing prayer.  The authors range from contemporary to 18th and 19th century, all the way back to the desert mothers and fathers and the "saints of old."  I'm finding it a lovely way to start my day.

One of the scriptures for this week was Psalm 84, whose writer also notices the birds at the Temple and writes about them, saying how blessed they are to live and sing in God's house.  That is how I felt this morning - blessed beyond measure to be in this temple of Creation, listening to the birds, the rain, the drip of water into the watering can under a leak in the porch roof.  Feeling also a little bit like that lone Mockingbird, calling out to the others to just be still, stop moving, stop striving, abide. Sometimes it can be a lonely calling.  But the Psalmist also writes:

 "I would rather be a doorkeeper in your courts,

than to take my fate upon myself" 

And I think about how long it took me to get here - how long, and how many prayers it takes to get to contentment.  To finally see the forest for the trees.  As I rose out of the chair to warm my tea up, a phrase popped into my head out of nowhere.  This is often how God speaks to me and the deep thought for today was this:

"There are no answered prayers...there are only unfoldings."

I heartily agreed, thinking about my own journey and how answers to the big questions were often only there in retrospect. How when we cried out for one thing or struggled with God over another, God was at work, changing us, so that looking back we can see how the life we needed to grow, transform and heal, unfolded. That was true for me on this particular morning at least, as I thought about a hope realized, my eyes filling with mist and my heart filling with gratitude.