Sunday Morning Serenity

There's something about sunrise bird chirping that automatically lowers my blood pressure. And I'll be honest. Right now, it needs lowering. We're still working through the grieving process for Dave's dad and trying to do as much as we can, long distance, to help his brother and sisters make sure his mom is okay. Soon, I'll receive my first completely-self-employed income tax return, and I can't help wondering what horrors the IRS has in store for me. We have many DIY home projects under way, so our back yard, kitchen, and dining room are upside down. Easter services to prepare for. Work decisions to make. And on and on and on. As Hank the Cat and I sat on the deck early this morning, listening to the birds—well, I was listening—Hank was probably stalking—I decided to have a little prayer time, right there in my favorite swivel rocker, with my feet propped up and my coffee cup nearby. Mid-prayer, I realized that I was feverishly rocking back and forth: Please be with . . . (rock, rock, rock, rock) and please bless . . . (rock, rock, rock, rock) and if You would show me Your will for . . . (rock, rock, rock, rock). I suddenly realized that I wasn't so much praying as stressing. So I stopped and got quiet and just listened. Prayer doesn't have to be active, I've come to think. You don't have to talk. Sometimes it's better if you don't. Sometimes it's better to listen and just . . . commune. There's comfort in communion with God. And there's peace.

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
John 16:33

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

[Image by Gerald Rencehausen @ Freerangestock.com]