I sit, quietly.
It’s Monday morning. The last several days were so full, so intense, so good. Travelling to be with other pastors and leaders in Newfoundland and Labrador. How amazing, that we could come together, listen to each other, pray together.
The longer I live, the more I value times like this.
My favourite moment was reconnecting with my RA from when I was in first-year Bible College. I smile, amused at the memories that surface. But we didn’t only talk about the past. We talked about the now, how we’ve changed our thinking as we learned along the way.
Oh yes. We’ve changed. Learned that our voices mattered, maybe more than we had anticipated.
Flights were delayed on the way home yesterday, and maybe that was a gift, giving me time at an airport in-between to begin to unwind. And now it is Monday morning. Today is full, as are the other days of this week.
But I begin by sitting, quietly.
Praying, silently.
Waiting. Breathing. Gazing.
The pup stirs sleepily on my lap, as we hear the garbage bins being wheeled out to the curb. He’s pretty happy I’m home again. Jeff is already asleep in the next room, coming home from night shift as I awoke to the day. He’s pretty happy I’m home again, too.
The city begins to stir, and I will need to do the same.
But first … I sit, quietly.
In the presence of God. God, who loves me, and is so full of mystery, wonder. I have no words to describe it. And it is so easy to skip this time. But when I take it, just to be present, with few or no words, no agenda, just being present to the beauty of God, my soul is restored. My heart is made soft again. My trust is renewed, because I remember how big You are.
Amen.