Saturday, August 22, 2020

Dearest God,

Today I feel my many limitations, arthritis in my shoulders, fingers and knees, poison ivy in strange places and difficulty rising from my seated position on the ground in the dirt.  I will soon be 74.  Although I labor long hours many days a week working on creating a spiritual path in the woods, pick fruits and vegetables and home can them and serve as the maintenance worker, homemaker and bookkeeper in my 200-year-old home, I feel those things that press me.  It is a temptation to stop, sit down and never get back up in order to save myself.  But I don't.

Faith is the mystery, the secret to rising up, praying, singing, working, meditating and dancing.  I can do all these things because you are the strength behind, below, in front, up above and around me.  I feel a great desire, a passion really to serve you in earth's vineyard.  I do what I do because I sense your call for me.  When I clear the land, I think of you.  When I pick veggies and fruit, bring them home, wash, clean, chop and can, I think of you.  When I paint the old summer cupboard, at least 150-years-old, I think of you.  Thoughts of you keep me working, playing and expressing my deep gratitude.

On this day as my joints hurt, my body feels weary and I itch and scratch, I still smile because I think of you!

Holy God,

you are

the author

of all

good things.

I am blessed

because you

are the

real reason

I rise

and work

and dance

and pray

and serve.

Thank you,

Mighty, Everlasting God.

Yours, Andrea