And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.
I’m the first one at the church, and the morning light has long legs that stretch from windows to floors. I close the door to my office and light candles, to remind me that God is present, here and always.
Deadlines and budgets can be far away for a moment; the phone can ring to voicemail; e-mails can go unread.
It is me and three blank sheets of paper: a space to envision, a space to dream. Here, everything is permissible. Everything is possible.
I am not carving out a holy space in my life — all the spaces are holy. I am carving out a space in my heart to recognize the holy in the only moment I have: this one right now.
It is not that the sacred needs to be ushered into my life but that my attention needs to be drawn to the sacred that already covers me.
Let this silence, these small flames, this moment of pause reminders. I cannot make holy what is holy already.
All that is needed for worship is an open heart and a moment of attention. The rest is already here.
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What reminds you to be present to the everyday holy? When/where/how have you found unexpected moments of worship?