Awake long before dawn, I prayed a while and felt an odd yearning. I’m convinced that the fluid way of the Spirit is curious. Maybe that’s the best sign of following the Spirit. We do curious things that upon later thought seem unusual, except for the fact that in the moment we had to do them.
I’ve tried to pursue these odd tacks, finding such things to be even more than writing the hallmark of my present existence. The foundation of this is simply that if we pray God answers. If we pray for wisdom God gives it, if we pray for light God shines down upon us. Only we have so conditioned God to act in certain ways we don’t listen well or see well when he works outside of those ways. In leaping at instincts one hopefully restores sight and sharpens the ears to hear.
There is no place for staid and sedate existence which only hears that which the world parrots.
I could be wrong, but I prefer to be wrong in acting towards the Spirit rather than be wrong by being stuck in doing nothing. This reality explains my entire present existence.
Part of me thinks God calls us to do the occasional silly thing just to see if we’ll do it because he asks.
The sun rose revealing a brilliant blue sky, and at promptly 6:30 a jay and squirrel came to the balcony to eat. The gentle breeze massages the trees and a chipmunk pokes around the tan needles of pines and orange leaves of oaks.
I sit outside and read. That is the odd yearning. I woke up with my soul demanding that I re-read the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. I’ve finished 1 Enoch so far, and found it again quite delightful, striking even depending on how well the Gospel writers and characters knew this now obscure writing.
In doing this, and in continuing to open my soul up to examination and decision, I press onwards hoping for nothing more this morning than to walk rightly with the Spirit.
It’s all about obedience… wherever that takes us.