Am I captain of a vessel beset on all sides by wind and wave? How possibly could I be responsible for this crew and the ship’s direction, when the wind overpowers and the sea swallows?
The drama of mastery is pleasing yet false. I am the deck hand cleaning the rails and pulling in the sheets.
The storm will pass, and the ship will again have calm seas. Let me fulfill my role in storm and in peace.
Thy will be done.
There will come a day when, walking through storms along windswept crags, I have an inward calm. Your peace I will have, grown like an oak inside me.
Until then, I seek you in these quiet times of dawn, I rely on silence and space to allow me room to find you. Solitude my crutch.
The winds blow now. Is it time for me to learn to stand in peace even on the battle plain?
Touch my core, Lord.
Alone in a mountain, I quietly mine these jewels.
In the jostle of the day, they slip away through my fingers like water.
Grant that I may hold onto what I daily find, even as storms lash, even as time lingers, even as enemies gather.
It is winter and I carry inside an oasis. Let it become a place of welcome.
Wake, tend, walk, work, eat, rest. Drive out self. Help others. Seek you.
Repeat each day.
Let the days become years, the acts become habit become way of life become living prayer.
Thank you, Lord.
Walking up a mountain track. You hold my right hand as along we go. Far ahead, storm clouds crackle.
By the time we reach them, the sun will shine and warm air will be drying the ground.
Let me discern present from distant, Lord.
You leave peace in the world. Do I accept it?
You offer joy to your children. Do I pick it up?
I wish for your treasures to be visited upon my fellows, that they may find the comfort only you can bring, yet I leave myself out. I rest to the side, making the way for others.
Let me claim the same power I see flowing through other to other, Lord, our collective birthright. The steward surely lives, too, in the house they maintain.
I have built a fortress upon a hill and behind a wall. Guarded by ramparts and filled with stores to last through three sieges.
But lo, this morning, I arise with a new song in heart and, leaving behind treasure and munitions, I set out to walk the trails and meadows of the woods. All I greet, I will tell that way to my castle where they can find food and rest.
Friend after friend, I will send up the hill with news of what comfort awaits. They will tell others. A city will grow, of love, based on providence.
When I return from your mission, Lord, there will be a community where there once was a weapon. The swords beaten into plowshares, the heaps of grain ground into bread.
You set me wandering, Lord. Let me carry your message.
While I wander in darkness, you are like unto a candle in a window. You beckon me to a safe resting place.
While I walk the village at noon, the same candle is invisible and I cannot tell one door from another.
I only see your light where there is darkness. Your peace comes in contrast to the troubles that precede it. Grant me discernment to see you even in the crowd, Lord.
Feet on earth. Hands grasping. Eyes that see.
This is the body you have fashioned for me, Lord, this is the ground you have placed me upon, this is the day you have made.
Dare I wish for something else? This world is a garment tailored just for me.
Let me gratefully enjoy these clothes, Lord.
You do not speak, yet I hear your music.
There is nothing solid, yet I feel your hands supporting me from below.
Pressed on all sides; yet not crushed.
Gifts and gifts, treasure and treasure, love and love.
Let me absorb the beauty of the invisible world, Lord. Indescribable, let me share it with my neighbors.
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