February 29, 2012
Remember you word to your servant,
because you have given me hope.
This is my comfort in my trouble,
that your promise gives me life. Psalm 119:49-50
When is it meditation and when is it just mind-wandering? This question arrests my attention as I try once more to discipline my self into prayer.
My soul drifts this morning as it meandered through the night. My disjointed waking troubled me back from a wilderness terrain of streams and rivers, shockingly strong currents and ice-flows. Adventure and beauty and danger.
As a child I spent hours playing in and around the creek that ran near our house. Exploring. Climbing trees. Trying to discover the secret of skipping stones as deftly as my older brother. In that pine-scented wood I discovered solitude and solace, and the wanderer’s restless pleasure.
The river of my dreams last night was alluring and treacherous; and somehow necessary. Now I again prepare for travel.
I allow my mind to wander the crevices of my life, gathering flat stones to skip hopefully across the day.
copyright © Anne E. Kitch 2012
