Early Morning Riser

I'm an early riser: this morning, 3:30.
When I awake, that's it.
My mind hums with energy.

Yet, I think: I should sleep a little longer.
But to no avail.
Books to read demand my presence.

So, I'm up, with cheer.
Some pills and a shave.
Teeth brushed ... I start the day.

Into the kitchen.
A cuppa via yesterday's brew heated in the micro.

Some walking devotions:
"Hail Mary full of Grace ..."
"I believe in God the Father Almighty ..."
"Our Father who art in heaven ..."
"Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open ..."

And then my 40 days of prayer journal.
Each name or need announced aloud, or silently.
The refrain: "Jesus my LORD."
And the date duly noted.

I pray for friends, near and far.
Sometimes strangers and ideas and darker things.
Some prayers are given 80 days.
Or 120,
Or the days of my life, as long as I should live.

Prayer is fitting for a season, as it goes.
The crisis passes; the need is met.
The journal page is lifted out of its three-ring binder.
And put away in the binder pocket.
And only later, tossed out.

Some pages are full with tiny columns of dates.
And occasional comments.
Ceaseless prayer.
As love never ends.

Then some coffee prepped for D.
When she awakens, out to the kitchen she wanders.
"Good Morning Dear Friend," I might say.
Or some other endearment, of a very long list.
Mostly sweet and some pretty silly.
She smiles and flips the switch.

I'll drink what's left tomorrow.

I Miss My Books

I miss my books.
Thousands of them I had.
Shelved and double shelved.
Many read entirely.
Some in bits and pieces.
Some again and again.
Some not at all.

But everyone of them a friend.
A comfort and a companion.
A reminder of great things.
Or small things, too.

But in the course of time.
Heading into interim ministry.
And then into retirement.
I had to say fare-thee-well.

Boxed up and given away.
Large sets sold on e-bay.
Some sent to a seminary in the Philippines.
Commentaries given to a young minister.

I miss them now and then.
But I'm glad to be free of them, too.
They served their purpose.
Even as I have.

Time hurries on.
And for the journey, less baggage.
Easier travel, for sure.
But I miss my companions.

Who, I hope, are serving others.
As they served me.
With insights and challenge.
Encouragement and comfort.

Thanks, good friends.
I miss you.
But you don't miss me.
You did your job, and now on to new employers.

Never to Find

I read because I'm searching.
Have always been searching.
Used books stores are the best.
But Amazon these days, as well.

And the library ...
A source of endless unusual books.
Small spaces here need no more books.
So, get 'em from the library.

To continue the search.
For what? you may ask.
I have no idea.
But I'll know when I find it.

Or will I?
Is it the search that counts?
Is it the never finding that's pure?
Would "finding it" only be an illusion?

We humans crave meaning.
Meaning that requires something larger than the self.
So, I read.
I search.

And if you're searching, too.
Keep it up.
There is pleasure in the reading.
And a certain pleasure in never finding.

Or, as a Reformed thinker might put it.
It's God we seek.
And in our seeking, we discover:
It's God seeking us.

And we're found of God.
Even in our not finding God.
Because God cannot be found.
God cannot be claimed.

And as a favor to us.
God remains elusive.
So much of our humanity and our humility.
Is the searching, never to find.

I've Always Been Curious

I've always been curious.
Or so I'd like to think.

Reading was my childhood adventure.
And tree houses and rafts and ice rinks.

In my first year of seminary, I
Returned to my alma mater.

And had coffee with some guys, and was
Bested in a matter.

I'll never forget it. He was right.
I was wrong.

I vowed, then and there, that would
Never happen for long.

I'd learn more.
Study more.

Keept at it. And
Know more.

Pride? Of course.
Curiosity? For Sure.

I love to learn. The
New always a lure.

For something more. Because
God is always just beyond my "for sure."

So, I change, and
So, I grow.

Sometimes the whole field. And
Sometimes just a row.

I've always been curious.
Or so I'd like to think.