Remembering while I walk

Norden chuteI’ve got a lot of time on my hands these days. I left my job two months ago, and my Monday through Friday daytime hours are now my own. Even as I think about the next thing, which is probably grad school at Creighton, I need to fill my hours.

I wash the morning dishes. I check in on Facebook to see what is going on in the world of my friends. I pay bills. I balance the checkbook.

And I walk.

I am rediscovering the beauty of my neighborhood as I put one foot in front of the other. I live in a walking neighborhood and many people are out there with me.

I listen to the music that comes through my earbuds and helps me to keep my feet moving.

And I think.

I think of family and friends still on this earth and those who have gone home.

And I remember.

And these days, I am looking back to the first days of my love of Steve and the beginning steps we took together. So today, I came home and brought down the basket of letters and notes we shared with each other, and continue to do even in these days.

Today, I found this prayer which I wrote one sleepless night with his new found love changing my life day by day.

A Prayer

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Help me, help me, help me.

It’s not a cliff, it’s a waterfall. I fly without wings, downward amidst the water droplets of mist; a river exploded, suspended in air. Floating down, ever down, to where it collects itself again into a moving, roaring force. Only now I am in the flood – not with it, not part of it – fighting to get out.

It’s baptism by flood. Don’t fight; give in and relax and soon I am lifted out and he leads me beside the still waters, not bouncing in the rapids, bruised and battered, but beside the now tender, quiet flow. My spirit is stilled by your spirit, Father.

My skin is cooled and cleansed, but my throat and heart are parched and dry. Quench my thirst with the lovely coolness of your water. My cup overflows with your mercy and grace. I am safe. I am loved.

Help me to love with the force of the waterfall, to explode into mist, to gather together, to tumble over rocks, to still, to cool, to quench. Let me be loved the same way.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.


Steve had shared Anne Lamott’s book with me where I learned her three prayers: Help. Thanks. Wow. Those three prayers are still mine as well.

And today, walking has helped me to remember that my hours are not just mine. They are shared with a man who loves me and whom I love, and who has encouraged me in this sabbath until the next thing.

I love. I am loved. I am grateful.




3 thoughts on “Remembering while I walk

  1. Cathy Greger says:

    This is your first post that I have read…. You are loved by many. I try to live with/understand Jesus’ prayers for us in the Garden of Gethsemane. Time and space do limit me, but we are connected.


    Cathy Greger


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