This evening I decided I’d just sit and be with God. I lit a candle, turned out the cottage lights and sat on the deck gazing at the house lights across the bay. I didn’t have any agenda other than to be with God. If my mind wandered toward doing things like menus and Christmas shopping, I brought it back to God.

    I don’t have anything startling to report. I let go of most extraneous thoughts; I prayed a little for others; I was filled with some gratitude—all very low key. Maybe this is my way of experiencing contemplative prayer. What I do know is that the entire experience felt effortless and satisfying. I think God liked it, too.

With this morning’s sunrise it was easy to fulfill today’s daily quote by Meister Eckhart.

      “If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, ‘thank you,’ that would  suffice.”

     Actually God offered me the opportunity, which made me think of Jesus’ words, “Do you have eyes but fail to see…?”

      What a way to start the day, but my prayer is that that I can develop the habit of saying thank you without the prompt of spectacular sunrise.

God and I aren’t chatting much right now. We’re just sitting together on deck of my cottage by the sea. Just God and me as evening twilight comes.

It’s 6:45 AM as I start this post. The 24 pound turkey that we will take to my sister’s later in the day is stuffed and in the oven. If I were at the cottage, I’d be about to watch the sunrise. But here I am, grateful for my family, and missing my mom, as I prepared this turkey—working all alone, just me and God. Truly a holy moment.

Right now I’m praying that the sailboat that was on the horizon has made it to the harbor. What was it doing out there at 4PM on a late, cold November afternoon? Maybe it was just enjoying a twilight sail, but something told me there would be no harm in praying it to the dock.

     Then there were the toddlers running from the beach to the road. Two-year-olds are faaaaaast, fearless, and yes, verytwo year-old!! Thank God, they came to their senses and stopped at their car along the side of the road, safe as could be. Nevertheless, I felt they also deserved a prayer.

I’ve been reading through the papers in Mom’s manila church folders. Although we four kids knew that ‘mom volunteered at church,” we had no idea of the extent of her participation. Right now I’m reading prayers that she wrote for her prayer group which met once a month. The wording is traditional and lacks inclusive language, but please remember, this was in the late fifties and early sixties.

      Mom’s prayers were complete: prayers of praise, thanksgiving, confession, petition, and intercessory. Here’s a little sample of the later.

      Be pleased to send thy help to those whom we name, whom we lift up to thee, Amy Jones, Edith Small, Jane Bruce, Eloise; the lonely, the bereaved, the ill, the old, the unemployed, the over-worked, the discouraged.

    I knew those people mom named--friends and family in need of prayer. Some things haven’t changed, have they? We’re still praying for people and I believe that a church community is a mighty good setting for it.

My church, as a member of the United Church of Christ, completed it’s part In Mission 1, a UCC coordinated effort to attack hunger in this country and around the world. I participated in several of the projects, namely by contributing canned food to our local soup pantry and by sending some money. But as I sit here in my CBTS, breathing in the view from the deck as I enjoy my soup and sandwich, I wonder if I am really feeding the poor. It is easy for me to buy a few cans of soup and write a little check. No sacrifice there.

   But is sacrifice what God is asking of me? Maybe, but that’s another topic for another time. Right now I need to ask myself who the poor are. I’m hearing that I can feed the poor only if I can see myself as one of them, see that I am poor, too. Jesus tell us, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” and I am certainly that. Without God, I am a poor; at the very least, without God I am arrogant.  Knowing I am poor in spirit keeps me humble.

       That’s one train of thought-- the personal one. But what about doing for others—the social one?  Who might be the poor that I can feed and how do I figure what the food might be?  Well, prayer of course, that walking and talking with God, which these days often happens for me on the beach.

     Recently a friend reminded me to keep asking: “What is God calling me to do?” At the moment I’m hearing God calling me to be in solitude as a necessary part of God’s call for me to pray for people; but I’m also hearing God calling me to go out and visit people who are poor, poor, that is in opportunities to be in community with others: the homebound, those in nursing homes and hospitals, and those with few family or friends. There are plenty in my small church community for me to feed. But you don’t need to be connected to a church to obtain a list of folks who would love a visit. I wouldn’t be surprised if those of you reading this blog have a list, right in your mind, of people you could feed. An of course in doing so, we feed our poor spirit as well.

I haven’t posted for a few days, but believe me, I’ve been praying. I like this idea of talking with God, which means that I have to listen and not do all the talking. I’m working on it . Being with God in this way is pretty easy when I’m walking on the beach, and that’s what I did today, my first day back at my cottage by the sea.  

    I must admit that it’s a challenge to remember to give thanks and praise for this awesome opportunity here at the CBTS. I’m working on it, although my inclination is to move to quickly to pray for other people. For example, today, walking on the beach with God. I prayed for two friends who were having surgery: back surgery for one at 7 AM (good report), and foot surgery for another at 1PM (haven’t heard yet). I prayed for successful outcomes and that they and their loved ones would feel God’s presence surrounding them.

     This praying for others feels just right for me. Most people I know, including most of you reading this blog, are leading extremely active, busy and complex lives, whereas I am purposefully trying to live a life of silence, solitude and simplicity. I guess I could say that I am finding myself called to be busy in a very different way.

Yesterday I drove to Connecticut. Oh, how many times in the past few years did I make that round trip in one day? It began when Mom’s attention span became shorter and shorter, and so after a brief visit she would dismiss me and home I’d go. The days of walks and talks and dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant (Mom would insist on using the 10% off coupon she received in the mail), were gone.

    Ad so yesterday was different; there was no mom to visit; no picture to send to my sisters and brother from my IPhone. I didn’t anticipate how hard it would be to turn off the Merritt Parkway and not drive to receive her simile.

     “Oh, I don’t have Mom in my daily life anymore.” Didn’t I know this? Of course I did. Of course I didn’t. Do I know it now?

      I went to the Memorial Garden at the church and that helped. Carved on a big stone I read Jesus’ comforting words from Matthew, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (11:28). This garden is a ‘thin space’ where trouble and sorrow is lifted, where God is present. Mom was there, too.

A while ago I wrote about the Iona Prayer Circle that I participate in. Every three months I receive an email from Scotland with updates of the prayer requests for people in my group. I have agreed to pray, in my own particular way, at least once a week (on Tuesday to coincide with the Service for Healing at the Iona Abbey) for the fifteen or so people on my list. I have a commitment between God and myself to pray for these people every day.

     “How to do this?” I continually ask myself. I don’t want to lift up a piece of paper with the names and say, “Here God. You know who’s on the list.” I don’t want my mind to wander or pay lip service to each name. Of course this very thing happens, but I keep pulling myself back and trying different ways to connect my heart to God for this intercessory prayer.

      Presently I’m considering ways that God might work through me. Here is my current process. First I close my eyes and take a few breaths and picture the person I am praying for standing in a circle of light. Then I imagine God’s spirit breathing through me and washing over the person. For now, it feels like I’m on the right path.