The winter is here.
And I am ambivalent.
For sure it’s beautiful.
Enough for me to grab my camera and run outside.
Others are so good at this.
Giving themselves over.
Ebbing and Flowing.
So little resistance.
I am paying attention. Eyes Open.
Hearing news of home and gardens that are green and lush?
The real me is also a little lost.
Hibernating. Unsure.
Trusting for Spring.

O God of all seasons and senses, grant me your sense of timing to submit gracefully and rejoice quietly in the turn of the seasons.
In this season of short days and long nights, teach me the lessons of waiting:
Of the hunkered-down seeds growing in their sleep watched over the by gnarled-limbed, grandparent trees resting from autumn’s staggering energy; of the silent, whirling earth circling to race back home to the sun.
O God, grant me your sense of timing. Teach me the lessons of beginnings:
That such waitings and endings may be a starting place, 
a planting of seeds which bring to birth what is ready to be born –
Something right and just and different,
A new song,
A deeper relationship,
A fuller love — 
In the fullness of your time.
O God, grant us your sense of timing.

(Adapted from “Grant Me Your Sense of Timing” by Ted Loder 
Guerrillas of Grace Prayers for the Battle)

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