The Awakening Hour
Morning Prayer
For God alone my soul in silence waits. Ps. 62
I am not a morning person, but I know the joy of rolling out of bed to greet the dawn. The reward far surpasses the sluggish resistance my mind puts up. Rumi explains it well, “Maybe a dawn breeze has blown the veil away from the face of God.”
What I noticed most this morning was the not just the pink tinge of the rising sun on the other side of this hill, but the softness of the clouds. Last night they were dark and dramatic, participating in a light show which cast shadows on the clouds that added to the mood.
This morning there is no moodiness. The colors fade quietly in a gentle breeze and wet dew and the edges of these new whisky, softer clouds are gently pure white. Soft as eider down, where one would place the childhood of their heart.
The Blessing Hour
Mid-morning Prayer
“I dwell in possibility.” Emily Dickinson
Normally this is the time of day for work. During this pandemic, the structure of a schedule and physical places where one must be at certain times have all melted into a fluidity of time. One doesn’t easily remember what day it is or the hours of the day no longer hold the same references. Next week Zoominary beings again and there will be a shape to the day, even if virtually. In the midst of video lectures, “living” syllabi, and readings, I will need to look up from all of that to pray or nod my head toward God. Mid-morning is a prayer of remembering the blessing.
But today, I spend the Blessing Hour on a ridge above the Guadalupe River looking down on what water remains from a hot and dry summer. I can see the ridge on the other side of the river and the tops of the live oaks. In this part of the state it is obvious that plants and trees fight harder for life. As a result the trees aren’t as tall as in deep east Texas, but they have character. Struggle makes a tree gnarly, and I think our souls get a little gnarly when we struggle, too. But the beauty of survival is in every twist and knot in those long, wandering branches.
The Hour of Illumination
Noonday Prayer
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, there will be peace in the world.” Sufi Wisdom
“I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!” Jesus
The sun is high in the sky and the cooler temperatures of the morning are giving way to the blazing heat of Texas in August. This is when the ascending day reaches the middle moment before the day begins to descend towards evening. The sun is high, it illumines everything around and sheds light on the evil and the good. While many of us think these days of 2020 are all about darkness, it is the light that reveals what needs healing, that exposes wrong and calls it out. The light dries out what has been hiding in the dark. As I seek a way to address the outer chaos, I am reminded again and again that I am first God’s. I have chosen the way of love, not some Pollyanna sentiment that I can hide behind and avoid the hard conversations and work my faith calls me to, but that fierce love that calls us to resurrection. Any resurrection is preceded by death. This sun reveals what needs to die so that love is resurrected once again. Oh, the pain of letting go!
The Wisdom Hour
Midday Prayer
“I loved her [Wisdom] more than health or beauty, and I chose to have her rather than light, because her radiance never ceases.” Wisdom 7:10
I notice now the day is definitely fading and each day at this point I feel a little panic, did I live this day well? Did I waste precious moments given to me? What did I do with the light? Where did I let wisdom guide me? How much time do I have left to do what I really wanted to do with this day?
For someone like me, I have to be very careful not to equate productivity with living the day well and in the radiance of wisdom. Be still and know God. So, it’s a daily assessment of stopping, even if briefly, through the hours of the day to remember God, to remember others, and offer a prayer. These sacred pauses throughout the day interrupt my over-achieving tendencies and my scroll-through-my-phone lethargy. The hours of prayer bring me back, again and again and again.
The Twilight Hour
Evening Prayer
“Stay awake, Holiness may spread its wings for you at any moment.” Patricia A. Lunetta
The sun is beginning to move behind the grove of live oak surrounding my tent even as I write this. There is a magical quality to the light just before it says goodbye. It’s elusive. I can’t quite grab onto it and it certainly is no longer shining on me directly. The wildlife emerge at this hour, even the bugs become more active. Will the day give one more parting gift of beauty or surprise? Even in painful times, we can catch God leaving us reminder gifts of love, a feather, a flower in the drought baked earth, the smell of honeysuckle. Pay attention, I’ve been told. The spiritual life is simply that.
The Great Silence
Night Prayer
“Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep.” Book of Common Prayer
I love this prayer. It is so comforting as I let go of this day and allow myself to rest and be quiet. The noise of the day goes with the sun and darkness brings a peaceful stillness everywhere. The stars and the moon bring a different light, a light that shouts “darkness is not dark to God! The night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.” I find a special blessing as the moon shines on my tent. This retreat is coming to a close and I am resisting the temptation to evaluate it. It is what it is. I rested. I painted. I wasted time. I cooked on an open fire. I read. I wrote. And I prayed. I hope this anchor I tossed into the stormy sea of life is right now will hold me while I step into another semester at seminary. It’s too easy, because there is so much reading and writing about God, to get lost in all that and forget the sacred pauses. My hope is to remember them.
Magdalena's Musings 