A 97% Solution

He who walks with the wise grows wise. --Proverbs 13:20a

This morning, one of my devotionals talked about the need for discipline in our spiritual lives. The author, named Muriel (my mother's name), focused on walking. She observed that for her, walking becomes her time of contemplative prayer, a time when she and God "find each other" in the midst of everything else. Muriel is a "nature walker."

I live fairly close-- about a mile and a half-- to the tremendous Cleveland Metroparks System.  By the time I would walk to the park entrance, even to turn around and go home right away, that's already three miles and almost an hour of my morning. But I cannot mentally justify driving-- to go take a walk. So I have become a city walker.

Muriel points out that Jesus was a walker. (Of course, he had little choice, but I digress.) Jesus spends a great deal of time walking: to Jerusalem, to Galilee-- and back again. It is easy to conclude, as Muriel suggests, that Jesus spent much of this walking time in prayer, conversing with the Almighty.

So I believe I am in good company.

It's not always easy getting up and getting going. Some mornings, the bedclothes seem to draw themselves tighter around me and beg me to stay. Maizie will join the entreaty, snuggling up closer beside and softly (or loudly) purring. Nothing, she says, is more important than that itchy spot right behind my ear. R-i-i-i-i-g-h-t there.

But most days, it's worth it to shake off the sleep, get dressed and head out the door just as the sun is beginning to rise over Cleveland. This morning-- definitely.

It's humid these days, typical late August in Ohio. There wasn't much breeze. Clouds hung low and heavy, as though debating whether or not it was worth the effort to gather together and rain.

The clouds in the east seemed even less organized, stretching themselves thin until they parted, like so much cotton candy on the sticky fingers of a four-year-old. And through those thin clouds, playing hide-and-seek between and among the treetops and the rooftops, peeked the sun. Not the brilliant, shining sun of summer, but an uncertain sun.

The seasons are changing, it seemed to say, and it's time. Time for the next thing, familiar yet new. Time-- for a change.

I remember another season of change, a time when the sun looked different, yet familiar. My life was headed in a new direction. I was on my own now. So three years ago, I made a trip Down Under.

Each morning I would spend some quiet time sitting in the window seat at the beautiful home of my gracious hosts, watching the sun begin its daily course.

It was almost fall when I left Ohio, but when I arrived in Oz, it was nearly springtime. Amazing. The sun that had been losing strength in Ohio-- was gaining strength here.

And then there were these trees along the horizon behind their house. I don't remember what kind they were, if I ever knew-- but this one tree-- well, look for yourself and tell me what you see.

Or this one, over the Abbey of the Genesee early on an August morning a year later:

(I know, I know-- some people see Jesus on a piece of toast; I see elephants-- everywhere.)

The thing is, we can find "evidence" everywhere, if we choose to open our eyes. (For me-- the evidence is pachyderms.)

Some people need to get away from the city grind; others find the face of the Creator on every busy corner in the middle of a busy urban life. Or in a bank of trees, half a world away from home.

St. Augustine put it this way: Solvitur Ambulando. It is solved-- by walking.

An African proverb suggests, "When you pray, move your feet." But have you tried it the other way around?

When you move your feet, pray.

If sitting quietly is challenging, if you want to try something new or extra in your walk with God, actually make it a walk. God is already there, waiting to show you something.

Approach life in expectation of the holy. You will not be disappointed.

Thank you, ever-present God, for eyes that see, for ears that hear-- and for feet that move in step with you. Amen