River of small stones

Thus, the river of small stones has come to the end.

Each day (almost) in January, I have written a short description of  a moment when I have been attentive to what's going on around me.  (Check previous posts.) The challenge was given by two writers at "River of Stones" for people to write a "small stone" every day for the month of January.  Their definition of a small stone is a "very small piece of writing that precisely captures a fully engaged moment."  It's a great invitation, but I added to it.  I allowed whatever small stone I observed to form a prayer.

What has this experience taught me?  First, the engaged moments have invited me to pray for things that I wouldn't have thought of otherwise.  That's been pretty cool.  Secondly, I am mindful of how many of my most attentive moments have come on the morning walks which are part of my prayer time.  Therefore you have heard a lot about birds and sky and the like.  Thank you for your patience.  But finally, I also have become aware of how hard the discipline of writing is, and I have a new respect for writers who sit down to the task of communicating every day through the written word.  Thank you, writers around the world.

Now, on to being a pastor....(which includes much attentiveness and frequent writing.)

Small stone, day 31

Sitting in the group, 
it suddenly comes with clarity, 
with certainty, 
with joy,
that there is so much work left to do, 
work left for me to do.


Praying today:  With gratitude for the opportunities to work and serve faithfully.

Small stone, day 30

In the middle of the city,
in the heart of a busy day, 
over dirty concrete streets,
a piercing call
twice spoken
I know a hawk when I hear one;
so sudden visions of northern exposure
and sitka pine set
telephone poles swaying.


Praying today:  For wild creatures adapting to living near people.

Small stone, day 29

I walk into the living room 
with my cheese toast supper 
and discover a tardy champagne glow 
resting in the winter sky, 
still seeping into my window; 
so my body begins relaxing into 
the lengthening of days. 

Praying today:  For people in the southern hemisphere who are relishing summer days.

Small stone, day 28

Two woodpeckers hammering in stereo, 
back and forth the drumming
dances through the thawed air.

Praying today:  Giving thanks for musicians who praise you.

Small stone, day 27

Outside the window sounds a constant shrill call.
I look for its source in the pussy willow bush 
but see nothing.  When I step out the door, 
a disturbed hawk glides off the roof and away.
The strident alarms soon settle into a conversation as
two newly visible chickadees peck at 
the ends of stems for seeds. 

Praying today:  For all those who will encounter danger.

Small stone, day 26

Contentment today is
finally to arrive home from work
to sit in a warm corner,
to feel the softest of yarns
slipping through my fingers, 
spilling a pattern of green and white.
I stop every few minutes, spread my 
hand over the growing blanket
and imagine the baby miles away
that it will gently hold for me.


Praying today:  For all babies being born---and their parents---especially those who will enter impoverished conditions full of risk for a little one.