I have not written in this space in a while. But nonetheless I have still been wondering. And still been seeking to engage the question of where is God at work.
Here in South Carolina it has become bitterly cold. . . Cold like it was when my family lived in Pennsylvania. I have been joking that I no longer have the clothes for this type of weather. My toes are in a constant state of chilly and I can't wait to feel the heat of the south rise again (and yes, I will complain about it when it comes).
As the cold has come some things have remained the same.
Flynn still needs to go out at night between 2-3am which I found horrible in this cold. Tucked into his sweater, he trots out every night into the freezing cold to do his business with a toy in his mouth. He is happy so I guess I have to be happy with him. It is so quiet at night here. The sky is so still in this cold. The steam from my breath seems to make a sound as the cloud rises up.
He has never seen snow so it's funny to watch him navigate picking his spot while trying to figure out what 'snow' is and why it is here.
We slip quietly back into the house and back to bed. He sighs and returns to his place against my leg and soon is off to sleep again. I find the whole thing (irritating as it can be to wake with a dog standing on your face) a sacred practice.
The whole thing. . . standing there in the silent cold. Listening to the night a practice of the sacred. I cannot help but pray especially with all that is happening in our life now. And so here is the challenge for you: Can you find the sacred also?
This cold irritates me. Like I said, my feet are so cold even now. My fingers ache and even in my office the tip of my nose is cool to the touch. Nothing about winter seems sacred. But it is. . . Or should I say: it can be. And in that affirmation, I again wonder if what you are doing right now can also be a practice in the sacred?
Maybe (after you finish reading this) lean back and consider where the sacred space with God could be today? And when you find it, try and linger there for just a little longer than you normally might. . . and enjoy it.
