Hello, friends. After talking for months about how difficult it was to approach my impending move from Texas to North Carolina, it has happened. The drive was long but so good, the goodbyes were hard, though I won’t feel the weight of them for a while. But–I do feel peace at being here, though I am terrified. I know it seems that peace and fear do not belong together, and you are probably right, but there you go.
Anyway. Today’s post is over at A Deeper Story as I reflect on my first night in my new very own apartment, which is a sentence I cannot say without sounding five years old. As I prayed to bless the house, I began to wonder at prayer, at Love, at Home.
This blessing calls for a candle, too (you know, for Light), but I don’t have one of those either. I skim farther into the prayer and realize that some of this doesn’t make sense to do on my own. Our homes are about each other, after all. I try to find bits that lend themselves to what is for now a solitary venture. The part I write out, slow and scripty, is also the one I post online in various ways, knowing that one or two dear souls in those spaces will pray it, too, even without my asking.
I read it again, place it beside one of the flower bunches. The small twinge returns when I sift through the words–how is it that the piece of the entire prayer I have chosen is about God, not to God, maybe even about a prayer to come, not even a prayer in itself?
Will you join me over at A Deeper Church today to read the rest?
Peace and grace to you.