PRAYER FOR A GOOD DAY

Yesterday looking out the bedroom window I spied a lonely deer feasting on a patch of plentiful mushrooms, cream and yellow, thumb-sized red, puffy domed speckled brown and flat pancake orange.  I love watching the deer forage.  They are not rambunctious like the squirrels (who also sit on their haunches and nibble mushrooms), nor as particular as the birds at our feeder, but graceful. Sometimes they stand on their hind legs and reach high for a leaf.  This deer chose some mushrooms and chewed them happily while passing others by.  

Then as I was leaving the house a red-tailed hawk sailed cleanly through the trees and out into the open sky.  Later, returning home, I saw two deer bounding from the meadow where they were visible into the woods, their bodies arch-shaped, leaping with front legs parallel, all four feet in the air.  Yesterday was a good day.  Don't you feel that way if you spot a box turtle or a tree frog? When we see a turtle, we want to tell someone.   

Sometimes I want something other than what I have.  To travel more and see the world, redo the kitchen, or fix the cracked fireplace.  To drive a new car with all the safety gadgets or have an automatic gate instead of one that nearly hurls me into the ditch when I yank it open.  To be young instead of old.  Sometimes I barely notice the deer and hawks; I speed down the driveway on an errand or stay home doing chores and forget to turn on the music.  

Then, other times, the better me remembers that there are people praying for what I already have.  People praying the war will cease (as do I), the well water is clean, the flooding will abate, the fires will be put out, the bullets won't ricochet tonight (in my town as well).  People praying for a full plate, quiet rest and long life.  People praying for a life that I may take for granted, having lived too long to die young, having money enough for the life I lead, and being as healthy as anyone else my age.  

Are you ever like this?  Overlooking the wonder and blessings of today?  I'd like to always notice the hawk overhead and the rabbit under the cedar; the downy woodpecker hammering the dogwood tree; the pop-up storms, the faithful moon and the leaves after summer rain.  

I do hear the owl most every night.  And I almost always look for the moon on Mr. Wiggles' last walk before bed.   But I'd like to never take the magic of the mundane for granted.  Just because it's here for the taking shouldn't make it less precious.  

If you feel the same, we could share this prayer: 

Dear God, let us be ever grateful for what we have.  Let us look to the sky and under every rock to find the treasures you have hidden in plain sight.  Snails in their shells, hickory nuts, fallen persimmons, moss and fern--whether high or low, let us appreciate what is so abundantly around us.  Help us remember that someone is praying for greenness to rise out of rubble and to be alive at dawn.  When we encounter your everyday gifts let us keep them in our heart, preserve them, and share them in whatever way is best.  And if we find only one sign of magic, however small, let that be a good day.  AMEN

                                                               Nina Naomi

THE DIFFERENCE THIS YEAR

This Christmas I noticed something special and I'm hoping others had the same experience.  Some years there's a disconnect between getting ready for Christmas and the evening or day itself.  After all, expectations run high.  

Some years the choosing, ordering or buying of gifts, the tracking and worry about the teenager's high-tops arriving on time (they didn't), the cleaning and decorating, the grocery trips, then forays for more not to mention the cost, can overshadow what we're preparing for.  We want love and peace and a modicum of calm and a candlelit night and a Jammie day.  We want carols and prayers (answered please) and good health.  We want family without drama.  We want alone time but just the right amount.  Whew, we want a lot!  No wonder we can be disappointed.  

Well, somehow this year was different.  And it happened without changing anything but myself.  When I wrapped the gifts for under the tree, I reused colorful boxes or gift bags from other years and only added tissue and ribbon.  I enjoyed the photos sent by the UPS of my packages outside a recipient's door.  We left a gift for our postal carrier Samantha, who is reliable as a clock.  I was so grateful to be preparing meals for a few friends and family.  I tried new recipes.  Two grandsons came the day after Christmas.  We're burning fires from the downed limbs in our woods and giving the kitchen a sweep when it needs it.  

But more than that.  I noticed that we gave each other small gifts on Christmas Eve:  teas and fancy tea towels, books and a new wallet, sweaters and cotton shirts or pajamas, and that each was unwrapped slowly and admired.  I noticed how appreciation shone from the faces of the small family gathered that night.   

I saw the comraderie of the brothers baking mint cookies for dessert after opening more gifts: a handknit beanie (made by me) for one and colorful socks, a sweater for each, and for their PaPa a picture album they filled with favorite photos.  No extravagance but time.

Every year the season passes too quickly, doesn't it?  That in itself is a reminder that it has to be the journey, not just the day.  But this is true of all of life, isn't it?  It's all about the journey.  About paying attention and noticing.  About savoring moments that may not seem memorable until they are gone.   Staying up late to put together a child's chair and table set is one of those moments for me.  Fixing a holiday meal with too many people underfoot, another.  I bet you have your own such recollections.  

So, I didn't feel the disconnect this Christmas.  Maybe you didn't either.  Maybe we all accepted the limitations swirling around this time of year.  Maybe our expectations were about the birth of the Christ child and the warmth of friends, family and memories and we didn't look for perfection anywhere.  And so being renourished, maybe we are now ready to go forward and help others in all the ways we can.  

Thank you, Lord.  AMEN