Sunrise, finds me wading through the garden mud, coffee cup in one hand, hose in the other, weeding, watering, picking, pruning. Planting and praying. Ready for the dawning of the fresh new day, full of possibility and potential. Ready for growth. Poised for hope. Pleading for His Grace, with mistakes looming on the horizon, not yet made. Awaiting my moment.
“Lord, walk with me. Like you walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden. In the cool of the day.”
“Help me, Lord, keep in step with You.”
“Give me grace, today, Lord; I have many mistakes that I will make.”
“Have mercy on me” I breathe. “Thank You, Lord, for fresh new mercies. I need them. ”
Sunset finds me in much the same way. Playing hide and seek with zucchini and peppers and quickly pinking tomatoes for breakfast while hubby gathers up some eggs. There is comfort in the nightly rhythm, roosters and hens putting themselves to bed. The silent flight of the Great Horned Owl, perching overhead, and swooping away. The hush of night sweeping over the homestead, as children and animals softly drift to sleep. There is peace and there is Presence. Yes, He is present in our rhythms and routines, making sacred the chores and making holy, the dirty work.
“Forgive me, Lord, for not keeping pace with You. For running ahead, and lagging behind. For not wholly trusting in You.”
“Give me strength to finish this day well.”
“Help me, Lord, have a better day tomorrow.”
“Fill me, Lord. Fill me.”
The in-between is a flurry and a scurry of activities, appointments, cooking, and cleaning, working, writing, and frittering. Oh, the frittering of time. It escapes me, those precious seconds, worth more than diamonds and rubies and gold. They seem to get lost in the shuffle, wasted on Facebook and Craigslist and somehow, it seems, nothing at all. In a flash, they are gone and I am left wondering where did those precious fleeting frittering moments go?
Time is a gift that we can never get back. Money comes in and goes, and things can be replaced and repaired, or even done without, and even health can be restored but time, time never returns. Once it has passed, it is behind and only the present exists. I hate that I let it get away. I despise my frittering of that which is so fleeting.
“Help me, Lord, to fully live in this moment. Perfectly in step with You. Resting in Your Love, working in Your Grace, expectant because of Your Hope, and fully alive and fully present. I want to live fully, in Your Presence. I want to live this moment.”
“Lord, thank You for this moment.”
This is my moment. This is a gift.