I'm posting a rerun.
From September last year.
And it's not that I think this is one of my best.
It won the luck of the draw.
Kinda a Ummin' & Thummin' thing - without the ephod.
Soooooooo.
Sorry.
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This morning is one of those that starts pretty early.
Keeping the lights
off and walking on mouse-feet, I make it to The Chair without damaging anyone’s sleep.
The Chair.
I think we all have The Chair.
It’s that place where we sit, taking time to look at things,
ponder things, and hold court – with God and ourselves.
The Chair is pretty diverse in its
manifestations.
It can recline, rock, glide, creak, . . . or even flush.
My Chair is a Christmas present from The Wife – a comfortable, old, overstuffed recliner from the local parish’s Thrift Store.
I look at the 4:00 AM world outside my window. A cold fog blankets the street, letting me see only
about half a block.
Kinda matches my mental state at the moment.
Things don’t seem too awful clear. Direction and purpose seem a
little bamboozled.
Maybe a lot of bamboozled.
After awhile, I get up
to begin the brewing of the Elixir Of Knowledge (a.k.a. coffee).
I walk past the front door and , for no particular reason, look out its window.
There’s the morning star, just blazin’ in the sky.
And it brought some friends.
I open the door and step out
onto the sidewalk.
In the eastern sky, Venus looks like a distant sports car headlight.
One of those new ones.
And there’s a handful of smaller neighbors keeping her company.
To my right is my old huntin’ buddy, Orion.
He’s ready to go out to the deer stand, bow in hand.
Turning back to my left, I see the
Big Dipper over the top of Rock and Mona’s house.
It’s standing on the end of its handle, pointing juuuust a little bit past upright.
I swear I hear the words of
Malachi* in my head.
Man, that's a really big ladle
for dumping a whole lotta blessing.
Incredible.
My feet now urgently remind me of two things.
1: they’re naked.
And 2: they’re standin' on 18 degree frozen concrete.
I hop back into the house and
head for the coffee maker. Five minutes later I’m back in The Chair. It’s still foggy and it’s still dark.
But when I look at the top of the computer desk, over there by the door . . . Venus is just shining away.
Even when I can’t see it.
And Orion is striding through the universe as he steps over the TV and goes behind the woodstove. Even when I can’t see it.
And God’s here right now. Leading
me, blessing me, loving me.
Even when . . .
* Malachi 3:10