Father,
On this bonus second summer day, I’m right where I want to be. For more than a decade I longed to take a walk in a Pure Michigan October and now, here I am. Thank you, God!



A squirrel is scurrying across the road hoarding nuts in his cheeks. I hear the leaf blower humming in the distance, a bird singing in harmony. Some of the leaves release from the limbs and I marvel at the grace of floating. Gently rocked by unseen hands, they somersault toward the earth. I smell the scent of those that have already landed and are combining with the terra firma, together creating nutrient rich soil.

On this spectacularly beautiful morning, my little corner of creation proclaims that God is real.
That He is the Creator.
And that His creation displays the work of an artist who loves beauty and goodness.

I am on my ritual prayer walk and there are many burdens I carry on my increasingly rounding shoulders.
For myself.
My marriage.
My children.
My relatives.
My friends.
My community.
My state.
My country.
And the world.


They are heavy and I see no definitive solutions on this magnificent horizon.
I cannot fix what’s broken.
I cannot solve our problems.
I cannot make right all that is wrong.
And that includes myself and the ways that I resemble Eve. Birth, choice and generational bondage all pummel me this side of the veil. But there are two realities colliding even here. Broken and beautiful. Even though God is absolutely perfect, He doesn’t expect me to be. He knows I am frail. He remembers that I am dust. He accepts me as I am, claims me as His child and proclaims that He will entrust to me the privilege to bear His image to the world even while He knows I will diminish it.
He has decided that I am not just a part of the problem. I am also a part of His solution.

I can’t really grasp it and it is not calculable like math. I am the squirrel searching for the next nut. Hoarding moments and memories. I am not designed for omnipresence, omnipotence and omniscience but God is. And He can be trusted with this picture perfect moment. With this idyllic October day. With my broken, beautiful life.
The One who created all things, who sustains all things, who will judge all things true to His character, full of grace and mercy, slow to anger and abounding in love, patient so that no one will perish but all will come to repentance, He sees, He knows and He cares about every good and perfect gift being given and received right this very moment and all of the utter travesties too.

He says He will restore, redeem and rescue the world according to His plan. And that plan gives each of us a second chance to be called His children when we never did anything to earn the first one. What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
The earth declares His glory.
Even the rocks cry out.
And so will I.
Amen