Another early morning, before the birds, before the sun. I watched as two chickadees awoke from their slumber in the trees, and joined together in a song amidst the cedar branches. Now the chipmunks scurry around, through the branches of various saplings, having found a new playground for themselves. Everyday they scurry around the ground, into the branch, back to the ground. These small trees, no taller than ten feet, are perfect chipmunk sized. One sits on a sloping trunk, washing his face with his hands, grooming his leg, swishing his tail. Another searches around an old small stump, digging, shoveling, looking for a snack.

This morning I got back to a bit of writing, though not the same sort as recently. I delved into the thoughts of the rabbis of old, finding their wisdom on topics of contemporary importance, and transmitting those in a way which our era would read. The danger, of course, in trying to bridge academics and church is laziness. I notice I’m a little less particular of sources and a little more willing to smudge the ‘rules’ when I seek to translate. This is something I’ll have to overcome, but can only be overcome if I don’t let that academic side of me slip away into some nether region of practicality.

I like the side of me which loves libraries, which treasures research. Like any art or skill, however, academics takes practice, continued work and effort. I do not necessarily see my path as leading into academia, but I do see the that side of my own thinking being absolutely essential to what my calling seems to be. I worry at times about how much I am praying, or how I am pursuing the other spiritual disciplines. Study too needs to be a concern of mine, so that I keep it up, so that I retain the sharpness and insight, so that when it comes time for me to speak, I will have something to say.

This morning I ventured back, and found I missed it all. A great reminder, a great project.