Where do I go when the pressure builds with strains of daily life and push and pull of the passing throng?
I have the news. It tells of a world which is frightened by its shrinking; by the shortened breath of environment; by increasing stories of troubled people with greater means of doing harm.
I have my home. It beckons with odd-jobs, escalating expenses, procurement of stuff and mounted memorabilia of good and bad.
I have my job. It promises a regular routine and occasional challenges to be undertaken and accomplished; the arriving paycheck already spent.
I have my friends. They will be quick to tell me of events in their circle. Sadly, only few will hear out my daily portion.
I have my books and hobbies. They take me to places and people briefly interesting; to cozy workshop fixtures where the plans always create more buzz than the products.
I have my quiet walks. The sound of measured tread, birds above and today’s persistent inner melody. All providing a brief over-ride.
I have children. Their freshness, wonder and frolic are worthy investment and tonic. But they are leaving in relentless increments.
I have you, my Love, and your habitual presence. That often, but not always, proves the precious comfort and cure.
I have focused prayer. A Father who is longsuffering and capable. But first, I must calm the thoughts, dismiss the flak, quieten the ears to His majestic advance. To His immeasurable calm, correction and hope.
Why does it seem that the prayer usually comes last?
(Painting by Monet)
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