Morning Prayer

I recently ordered a copy of A Diary of Private Prayer to use in my devotions. It is a collection of prayers for morning and evening, written by John Baillie and first published in 1936. My version has been updated and revised by Susanna Wright to make it readily understood so many years later.

Here is a sample to savor, this morning's reading.

O God, you are alive from eternity to eternity. You are not just at one time or in one place, because all times and places are in you. I long to understand my destiny as a child of yours. Here I stand, weak and mortal amid the immensities of nature. But blessed are you, O Lord God, for you have made me in your own likeness, and you have breathed into me the breath of your own life. Within this fragile body you have set a spirit that can relate to your own Spirit. Within this perishable being you have planted what cannot perish, and within this mortal, immortality. So from this little room and this early hour I can lift up my mind beyond all time and space to you, the uncreated One, until the light of your face illuminates my whole life.

Let me remember that my mortal body is only the servant of my immortal soul;

Let me remember how uncertain my hold is on my own physical life;

Let me remember that here I have no continuing city, but only a place for a brief stay, and a time for testing and training;

Let me use this world without abusing it;

Let me be in this world but not of it;

Let me be as though I have nothing, and yet possess everything;

Let me understand the vanity of what is time bound and the glory of the eternal;

Let my world be centered not in myself, but in you.

Almighty God, you raised your Son from the dead and set him at your right hand in everlasting glory. Thank you for this hope of immortality with which, through many ages, you have cheered and enlightened the souls of your people; a hope which you have made secure through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen

Early Flight

One day, completely out of the blue, National Asset asks would you like to come along with me on a trip?

Where to? I ask.

Maui, he says.

I don't even need to think about it.

Every trip has its own unique challenges and this one required the Asset's formidable skills in booking complicated flights. His flight needs to be on the current government contract carrier. Mine needs to be on the one with which he has most of his frequent flier miles. It took the two big P's, persistence and patience, to arrange flights that would both leave San Diego and arrive at our destination within a reasonably close time frame. And somehow he did it.

So the day arrives. We get up at zero-dark-thirty, after a night of clock watching on my part. The Asset has trained himself to sleep anytime, anywhere as part of his basic survival skills. He can simply fold his arms, nod his head, close his eyes, and sleep-breathing ensues.

But, try as I might, sleep eludes me the night before early travel, and this is no exception. As I finally get up and prepare to leave I remind myself that I have survived nights like this before and a trip to Hawaii in January is totally worth it. Domino, our black and white kitty, senses what's up and immediately hides under the bed. He absolutely hates traveling and is darn good at reading the signs. I get on my knees, cheek to carpet, and try to convince him he isn't coming on this trip and has nothing to fear. But it's no good. He remains an arm length away so I can't pet him goodbye.

We gather our pre-packed bags and wait in the dark at the curb for our Uber driver. He arrives quickly and is eager to help load our luggage. He makes small talk with an accent I can't place and we are soon on our way.

As we approach the airport the driver asks what terminal?

Well, both, actually, the Asset responds. Drop me at terminal one, and her at terminal two.

Two different terminals, this is a first for me, the driver states with some wonder.

For us, too, I mutter from the back seat.

The Asset hops out at his terminal and Uber Driver continues on with me.  I can just go straight? he keeps asking, gesturing with his right hand.

Yes, I keep replying until I finally just say you can drop me here. He keeps asking  are you sure?? and I keep answering yes until the car slows to a stop. He pulls my luggage out of the trunk, I thank him and I'm off. Why is it adventures so often begin in the dark of night when I am tired?

There are other firsts for me on this trip. This is the first time I have a laptop of my own that needs to go in a separate tray at security. (I figure this out by watching the woman ahead of me.) It is the first time I had my tummy patted down because I wasn't completely alert yet and picked the line with the radiation chamber and a yellow box appeared on my belly on the scan. It was just a little tummy rub, done by a female officer. Piece of cake compared with the full pat down/wand scan I was subjected to on another trip.

And (drum roll) I now have a smart phone. I grin as I show my boarding pass to the gate attendant by simply holding it up. Yup. I'm cool.

I wait at the gate until it comes time to board. I whip out my iphone, but I can't find my boarding pass. I search and search and it's just not there. So I get in line and when I get to the gate I practically whisper I can't find my boarding pass in here (holding up my phone) but it was just there a little while ago...

What is your name? he calmly asks. Thankfully I can remember my name and he finds me on his monitor and all is well.  I mouth thank you! to him and board for the short leg of my journey, to the City of Angels.

I find my seat. We take off. And in a few short minutes we slip up to heaven. All of my harried-ness evaporates and I just can't turn my eyes away from the window. Above me, a fleet of cumulous clouds float gently, tall silver and alabaster ships sailing towards an unseen harbor. Below lies a thick, white blanket of soft, clean quilt batting, giving the illusion that the world below still sleeps. 

And there, poised on tiptoe so their heads can rise above the shroud, stand the San Gabriel peaks, the mountains of my childhood, modestly draped in snow-white lace mantillas. All this beauty. So few eyes privileged to witness it. I feel blessed to be one.  It becomes mesmerizing, and I am wistfull as we descend through the batting to land below.

While I wait at the gate at LAX, I manage to find my boarding pass - in the trash (how did that happen?) on my iphone. I simply leave it there, worried I might send it somewhere in the ether before I need it once more. When it is finally time to board, I do so with the calm demeanor of one who knows exactly how to manage her new electronic device.

I find my seat, heave my carryon into the bin above and slide my backpack under the seat ahead of me. The Asset booked me a window seat in Economy Plus and I smile. My knees don't touch the seat in front of me.

The plane is not full and the flight attendant offers upgrades for people in the back, for a price of course. The man sitting in the aisle seat and I simultaneously try to cover the empty seat between us. We smile like conspirators when no one claims it and we begin taxiing to the runway.

So we're out on the taxiway when suddenly the plane stops. We wait, and finally the pilate announces that someone in the tower noticed that the panel to one of our engines is hanging open and we have to wait to have it checked. We wait, and wait...

A service truck drives over. What's happening? my seatmate asks.

There's a guy coming over...it looks like he has a screwdriver in his hand, I say as the man disappears behind the giant engine below my window.

Again we wait. Another truck pulls up, another man walks over.

Suddenly a panel covering a third of the giant engine slides open, revealing all these monkeys running on treadmills inside!

Okay, I couldn't resist. No monkeys. Pretty soon the panel closes and the pilot says we're good to go. Next stop, Maui.

God's Consolations

There is something about winter with its gray skies and cold winds and naked trees that brings out the contemplative in me. 

It is not like spring, with fresh new life pushing up through the rich red-brown soil and from the tips of trees while bright blue stellar jays flit and fly and screeching hawks soar against cerulean skies. 

It is not like summer, with its long warm days and lingering sunsets and fresh tomatoes from the garden, nor like fall where every bit of wind starts a cascade of oak leaves that inevitably succumb to the power of gravity and carpet the land.     

Winter at Sanctuary means trips to the woodshed and back to feed the stove, and trips to the edges of the property to spread buckets of ash that will nourish the earth. It is the battle of Woman vs The Cold as I close off certain rooms each night to focus warmth in the heart of the house for sleep, and then gradually reopen them again each morning when the wood stove gets back up to 400 degrees.

There is no gardening in winter, and walks require so much outer wear that it becomes an act of will to make them happen. Watching weather reports while drinking my morning tea becomes routine as I gather such information as will the snow level drop lower than 3000 feet? and do I have enough supplies on hand to be comfortably house bound for several days?

Somehow, although days are shorter in the winter they seem longer. There is time to think about all manner of things that get squeezed out in other seasons. Existential questions and all the what if?'s that get tucked away in the outer reaches of my mind when it is warmer.

Recently during my devotions I latched onto this verse:

When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul. (Psalm 94:19)

I figure it must have been winter when the Psalmist wrote these words. I copied the verse in my journal and began a list entitled God's Consolations. And here is a sampler from that list.

music - piano, harp, singing
the sun, warm on my face and shoulders as I walk
a stedfast husband
creation - kitties, birds, rain on the roof, growing things
restful sleep
making things with my hands
friends - old and new
prayer

As we have barely begun February, I will undoubtedly have plenty of opportunity to reread my list and add to it. In fact, intentionally recognizing the diverse range of things that my heavenly Father provides for my consolation and wellbeing will now be season-less. 

So here is my challenge: are anxious thoughts multiplying in your mind and heart? What are the unique consolations that God provides to bring not only comfort, but delight for your soul?