Monday Morning Offering: 6/3

Image: George Mendoza

Good morning, good God!

I've mentioned this before, Lord,
but it stays in my mind, in my imagination
- and it's such a simple thing: 

    it's the leaves on the trees...

 

Not much more than a month ago
    I'd sit in my recliner, looking out my second floor windows
and I'd see the right through the trees' bare branches

    out to Cochituate road and up to Old Connecticut Path...

 

But now my window frames a lush curtain of leafy branches,
    swaying in lazy breezes - and that's all I see,  

        save occasional headlights, passing by, after dusk... 

 

Now a small green forest fills my yard
    while all along these Wayland streets
the naked limbs that scratched at April skies
    now brush and sweep the puffy clouds 

        that grace June's fair debut...

 

And here's the thing, Lord: for all this beauty 

    - the trees did nothing but - stand there:
        soaking in the springtime downpours,
        drawing up the earth's sweet moisture,
       bathing in the sun's warm light
        and watching branches bud and then go green.
        thick with beauty's bounty, 

        gratuitous and undeserved...

 

The trees did nothing, nothing, Lord, 

    but stand there
        - while you did all the rest...

Would that once or twice or more 

    each day and every night 
I, too, might only stand there, Lord, 

    or maybe sit or lay down on the grass: 

        soaking in your showers of grace,    

        drawing up from my day's life
            the moisture of your presence,     

        bathing in the light that's found, only,
            in the forest of my quiet time for prayer...

The trees do naught but stand there, Lord,
    letting you do all the work 

until their beauty bursts  

    and we rest 'neath their shade...

Help me find some time each day,
    help me find a place to meet

where I'll do nothing, Lord,

    nothing but just stand there,

        or sit or kneel or stretch out on the grass

    and wait for you to do what you do best:

        love and bless me, drench and warm me,

            nurture and mature me in a springtime of your grace, 

    undeservedly gratuitous and yet so freely given,

        a season of the beauty you choose to share with me...

Give me grace to welcome in, Lord,
    all the ways you help me grow
and grace to let your life in me 

    bud and bloom and flourish, 

filling my bare branches 
    with the wonder and the awe 

        that only you deserve...

 

Slow me down, Lord, to a standstill

    and stop me in my tracks,

lift my face to yours 

    that I might meet you heart to heart

in that silence where your Spirit 

    moves and whispers in my soul...

Help me just to stand here, Lord
    or sit or kneel or stretch out on the grass,

        silent in your presence,

    until you do what you do best:

        make of me the person

            you created me to be... 

 

I offer you this Monday morning prayer:

    keep me faithful to my pledge, Lord,

to stand still at least once a day,

    every day this week...

Amen.

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