my morning walks

Cheyenne and I walk every single morning, first thing after downing a cup of coffee. She takes it seriously, too. In the last year we missed only two mornings, one day the streets were sheer ice and the other was sideways rain. 

We go at an aerobic pace but slow down often for her to read her d-mail. While she busies herself with the latest news I try to unravel the twisted, knotted thoughts caught my brain. Okay, I worry! I fret over family and friend’s, their problems and pains. There are work troubles to go over and over. What about the anguish over war and an environment in danger? I spend a good amount of time trying to solve the ills of my world. But it is like trying to turn on a flashlight without batteries. I just keep turning the switch on, then off. On…then off. 

It finally dawned on me (I'm a slow learner), if I want to expend that much energy I should be connected to a power source! So I have resolved to use those walks as time in prayer instead. I believe in prayer, in asking. And I know full well that prayer gets things done. Worry accomplishes nothing unless my goal is heartburn or elevated blood pressure. 

It is so liberating to lay down a concern before the One in power and know that He already has a plan for good. St. Augustine said "True, whole prayer is nothing but love." So, yeah, I can do that. 

I read somewhere "Pray as you can, not as you can’t." That idea takes a burden away, doesn’t it? It gives me permission to ask in my own simple words. I admit, there have been times lately where all I could verbalize was one word, "Mercy!" 

My walks have transformed into prayer. Each step beats out a rhythm of peace that cycles from depths of breath to depths of spirit. The miles are no longer measured as distance but as time filled with remembrance. And the sweetest steps I take are the ones where I fall silent long enough to listen.

 If you are reading this blog, then I probably know you. And if I know you I am praying for you.