I need Thee every hour

In joy or pain…

This has been one of those days. It is a day when I have to choose truth. And so I put music on, and I take a shower, and I go for a walk. 

What will my rhythms be in this strange season I have been suddenly thrust into? This one handed, no car, season. This food at my door every evening, laundry returned folded, season. 

I was trying to think last night what I can do. The thought came, I can breathe. I forget that sometimes. But I am alive! Perhaps this is the season for me to notice my breath.

I can be present. I can do the work of being all the way there. I can welcome my children, with my eyes, with my voice, with my presence. Perhaps this is the season for me to be present. 

I can listen. There is lots of quiet space. I longed for that over the holidays.  Now I’m here in the quiet, and it has a sound of its own. Perhaps this is the season for me to listen. 

I have a frame that hangs in the corner, empty. It represents the Mystery, The unknown of what is ahead. Perhaps this is the season for Mystery. 

Breath. Presence.  Listen. Mystery. 

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