TO KEEP WALKING TOWARD THE HORIZON

Most every morning around 7:00, I begin walking toward the eastern horizon to see the dawning of the new day.

As you can imagine, with the passing seasons my views of the horizon keep changing. At 7:00 in July, the sun was already quite high, but now at the end of October, there is only the promising glow of the sun on its way. Each morning offers a varying palette of color–deep purples and blues, pale yellows, or bright oranges and pinks. There are times when clouds completely hide the sun and other times when they allow a few lovely sunbeams to shine through. On foggy mornings, the blanket of gray lends itself to quiet contemplation. And last week, as I walked in the early morning darkness, the Bridge Park caretaker turned on the parking lot lights for me. The lights washed out my view of the morning sky, but his kindness warmed my heart.

When I first began this practice, my goal was to witness the perfect sunrise as often as possible. I would be disappointed when the sky, the weather, or my schedule kept me from doing so. But over time, this practice of just showing up–for whatever the sky presents–has become a ritual of comfort and peace. I choose to keep walking toward the eastern horizon, but with a new spirit of open curiosity and a grateful acceptance of each different view before me. The sunrise is ever changing, but the regularity and consistency of this discipline are grounding and centering me (before I return to the chaos and concerns of these days).

In a recent gospel reading, we heard the story that Jesus told of a widow and an unjust judge (Luke 18), in which the widow keeps coming before the judge with her pleas for justice, but he remains unwilling to help. She finally pesters him enough that he grows weary and agrees to take care of her request.

My Jim gave an insightful message in which he echoed the words of Jesus, that God is the opposite of this unjust judge. We do not need to pester God, because God is always ready to lovingly hear our prayers, and God already knows what we need. Jim went on to say that the story is about persistence in faith–the kind of faith that keeps trusting when life gives us every reason not to. “Faith isn’t proven by instant answers, it’s proven in persistence,” he added.

Then my thoughts went further…

I considered how persistence in faith and prayer might be like walking toward the dawn. Maybe faithful persistence is to regularly, routinely open my soul to God, with no other purpose except to enter into God’s loving goodness, trusting that God will reveal what I should take in and take with me.

Like my experiences of the morning sky, my time with God may feel foggy or clear, ordinary or striking, disappointing or amazing, uninspiring or wondrous. But whatever is revealed, I will find comfort in the consistency, peace in the present, hope in the promise of another new day. Persisting in faith, I will keep walking toward the eastern horizon. I will keep showing up for time with God, not knowing what might be revealed… but trusting the great Revealer.

Hidden or bright or ordinary or awesome, the rising sun is always radiantly shining.

And so is God.

(Photos by Karen)