I rise before dawn and call for help;
    I put my hope in your words.
 My eyes are awake before each watch of the night,
    that I may meditate on your promise.
 In your steadfast love hear my voice… – Psalm 119:147-149

One of the real treats built in to the structure of my day-to-day life is the routine of waking up early to walk Max for thirty minutes while the coffee brews.

There is no rush. No bus to catch, no clock to punch, no press of obligation, no meeting to run to other than my appointment with the new day.

And the day is typically patient, but very much ready – and its invitation is, at that hour, gentle.

So Max and I head out onto the porch, where I stretch a little, then down the steps and along the sidewalk past the Presbyterian Church which reminds me of my faith and my community, and I immediately feel my spirit both lifted and grounded at the same moment in the providence of promise.

Then we turn, under the canopy of live oaks along the perimeter of the Calvary Churchyard, the ancient edifice peering through the morning light and the tangled arboretum to whisper words like “heritage” and “mystery” and “permanence” and “eternity.”

On now to the Tarboro Town Common. Walking with Max is not so much exercise as it is meditation and invitation. And preparation. Because entering this day at the right speed is exactly what my soul needs. The surface of the Earth may be moving us toward the light at a little less than 1,000 mph but I want to move into today at the pace of peace.

And the light mist clinging onto the trees on The Common reminds me that the Spirit hovers, lingers, surrounds. And my entry into today is now more closely calibrated to the cadence of faith and of trust and of promise.

Because the world I am now about to interface with is not necessarily listening for the voice of The Holy, and I must be prepared to meet it with the grace and the belief that is mine if only I pay attention.

Likewise, may we all know God’s peace and live accordingly – DEREK