My soul is athirst for God, athirst for the living God;
when shall I come to appear before the presence of God?
I step onto the labyrinth and begin to walk. In the predawn stillness, the brick path is illuminated by the moon and the ambient light of nearby buildings. I did not plan to come this way this morning, but was drawn by a desire for prayer and movement.
As I wend my way along the curved path, I recall a time when my children were preschoolers and our entire family walked a labyrinth together. We did not walk it at the same pace or even in tandem with one another. But I remember now my awareness then of us all being on the same path at the same time, at times coming close to one another, at times moving farther apart, yet connected by our shared journey.
This morning as I meander along a way that one moment heads me straight to the center of it all and the next propels me to the outer edge, I become aware of just how connected I am to the journeys of many others. I ponder this, savoring its implications.
Then, just when I am used to the back and forth movement, I find myself at the center. I fold my legs beneath me, sit in silence, and pray. I stepped onto this path this morning because I was yearning for God, seeking connection and reassurance. Now I see it is not a matter of how or when I will discover God, but that the Divine One is always present and all my steps are always in relationship to God.
I sit for a bit longer, the growing light giving more shape to my surroundings. Then I get up and begin the return journey, stepping once again onto a winding path.
Photo credit: Anne E. Kitch