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Posts Tagged ‘night’

Moon at night

The moon at night.

Sometimes,  this could be me.

A modern folktale.

Once upon a time there was a woman who woke up at 3 am, every night, for no good reason. 

She wasn’t worrying.  She wasn’t sick.  She wasn’t depressed.  She just woke up – wide awake – at 3 am.  Every night.

 She tried cutting down on coffee, squeezed in some exercise during the day, but she still woke up every night.  Night after night after night. 

Now, this woman was busy.  She had a family, job, friends, volunteer work, parents.  She prided herself on getting things done.    Driving the kids to activities, making meals, cleaning house, shopping, paying the bills, working, volunteering – she was always on the go.  And she thrived on the activity, thrived on being in control and being needed.  

Sometimes she felt lost in her busy-ness, as if something elusive was missing in her life. But she brushed off that nagging thought and went back to proudly crossing things off her long list.   She didn’t have time to worry about it.

But she was used to being in control of her life, and so the night waking drove her crazy.  In the mornings she was tired and frustrated.

She began to get angry.  Finally, one night, waking up yet again, she sat up in bed, wide awake.  She was really, really pissed off.  “God!” she shouted to the air “Why am I waking up every night at 3 am?”

And to her utter astonishment, God answered:  “Because it’s the only time I can get your attention.”

Sometimes,  this could be me.

Seeker

(I’ve been told this story, with different details, several times by several people.  This is just my re-telling of this tale.)

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One special moment of many in the Holy Land.

Camel at dawn

Dawn on Mount Sinai

My camel plods steadily up Mount Sinai in the dark. Her cushioned feet make a soft crunch on the ground as she steps deliberately up the path, one large foot at a time.

I am bundled in a warm fleece jacket against the crisp cold, sitting high up in my comfortable saddle. Holding securely to the worn, wooden pummel, I am accompanied by my moon shadow, riding up the mountain with me. My shadow and I are both sitting tall and easy in the saddle, breathing deeply the cold, fresh air. A slight odour of musty camel and camel dung drifts past on the light breeze. Overhead, the stars shine like brilliant jewels in the clear, dry night sky.

I hear the guttural grunts and grumbles of the camels, and the calls of the camel drivers behind me. A radio blares for a while, then is silenced. I feel alone with my camel on this dark, rocky mountain.

The camel takes a small mis-step and slips a little on the loose stones. I peer down a dark, steep precipice, but I am calm and trust my camel completely. I continue to feel the rhythm of her steady steps up, up, up the mountain. Imperceptively the black sky lightens and I can see into the dark crevasses. Somewhere a bird sings a pure, simple two-note song.

The grace that has brought me here, to this place, to open my heart to God, brings me to tears. And my heart overflows as God pours in all that I need to sustain me on my journey: life and beauty, joy and love, awe and wonder, gratitude and peace, courage and strength.

An hour later, we arrive at the summit at dawn. Suddenly the camel pitches back and forth, settling down onto her calloused joints to allow me to dismount. A little unsteady on the solid ground, I take a moment to find my land legs. Soon I am back to solid reality, two feet on the rocks, my heart singing as I watch the sun rise, knowing that I will carry home the strength of this mountain of God.

Seeker

You shall have a song as in the night when a holy festival is kept; and gladness of heart, as when one sets out to the sound of the flute to go to the mountain of God, to the Rock of Israel.      Isaiah 30:29

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