It wasn’t that I got started late this morning, rather it was the fact I got started too early, much too early. Two thirty in the morning. I woke up when the dog barked, and stayed awake. Then I sat down and got to work as I usual do at more decent hours.

I enjoy the quiet and cool of those hours, quiet until a coyote nearby, but hidden in the shadows, began yapping. Bark, yap, yap, yap. Bark, yap, yap, yap, yap. It was not the usual crying, it was a different call, from what I’ve heard a more specific call for its mate. When there was no wind, no sounds of other kinds, this yapping echoed eerily, highlighted in mood by the bright light of the full moon.

At six I fell back asleep, but not before finishing the last pages of volume one of Gibbon. I’ve owned these volumes since 1998. Finally, I finish one.

Small grasshoppers, or locust, or some similar wee jumping beastie, are all about, completely camouflauged in the dirt, the only indication is the sudden burst of movement at my feet, hopping away five yards, hidden again in the shades of brown.

It is a hot day, very hot, hotter apparently than even the real valleys. Unusual. The deserts below must be radiating. No breeze means the air remains hot. Ah, well. Summer is soon here.

My schedule is thrown off by the weird sleeping habits. And yet I don’t mind. I’m not one to enjoy the same schedule, the same tasks day after day. I love to be creative, to throw spontaneity into the mix. Not a very monastic attribute. There is an important quality about maintaining a schedule, creating a regular rhythm of being, enabling the steadiness of discipline to overcome weakness of will. But there is also the problems of too much rigidity. Without flexibility there is no life in a spiritula life, the fluidity of the Spirit gets buried beneath static schedules.

There is also the tendency to become addicted to the habits, without consideration of the goal or purpose. The disciplines, the tasks, are all meant as tools, not goals in themselves. Being flexible allows one to drift with the leading of the Spirit, following the paths through odd directions, staying on a course which is often hidden except to the great guide.

I consider this as I think of my reasons for coming here. They were, as I told to others, to retune myself with nature and to pursue writing as more than a hobby. The real reason reveals itself to me, telling me that my reasons were indeed true, only they were secondary.

The reason for my present is to become attuned to Christ, to learn those realities which come in waiting, in solitude, in relative poverty. Lessons which teach humility, teach openness, teach sensitivity. I came here as one who desired so much to impress others with my skills, to assert my wisdom in churches, to develop new patterns of Church and spiritual thought. Within my reach, but never quite within my grasp were these things, and so here I came, abandoning all those for something much more elusive, and yet more approachable.

I consider my soul and realize the steps I have taken on the inward path, wanting still to be making progress on the external only seeing how I would never have looked inward if those had worked out. Much of ministry is asserting one’s own being, making waves, establishing oneself as the authority. The truly Godly have released themselves, their own being, and let it be the Spirit who moves through and in them. Pride is not an issue because that person is always aware of the reality of God.

That person is not yet me. I’m closer, and see the path for what it is. The fact is I’m learning, I’m growing to see that the open doors will never come from my personal assertion of my being, but will only result in the sitting back, in the releasing of everything I dream and hope for. In doing this I find freedom, release, and become a person who God can use, use in a way which assumes fluidity, assumes honor of him more than myself.

Nothing I can do will come from my own skills, whatever talent or abilities I may possess. It is God who works. So, whatever happens, whatever progress I make in this life, will come from my resting and trusting in him, learning the meaning of life being Christ. I say this now because there are no answers, because there is nothing which seems to be working out, little which seems to be able to release me back into what many would call a real life. I say this now in faith, knowing that when and if the tide changes I will only feel this time worthwhile if my passion remains consistent with or without real blessing.

I stand. Whatever else may happen or not, I stand. That’s my goal, the only way to the end I seek.