Morning Prayer

I've never been all that good at sticking to a discipline of prayers. There are many individual prayers for morning, evening, and compline that I love, and occasionally remember to say at the appropriate times.  But prayer and meditation have become more and more open, less filled with words and thoughts, and that feels right, at least for now.

This morning, as I walked from the house to the car, I paused to appreciate God's blessings in our garden.  For fourteen years, my good husband has labored to clear trees, cultivate herbs, keep the grass cut in oppressive heat, and generally create a beautiful and sacred space around the hermitage.  This morning, my heart was particularly touched to see a few late-summer blossoms near my path: a tall, spiky plant with red flowers whose name I've forgotten, one glorious hydrangea blossom that came out rather late this year, several lavender blooms on the Rose of Sharon, and one sweet red rose on the bush my husband planted for me several years ago.  I am not a grower, but I do know God's blessings when I see them.  My prayer this morning is simple appreciation for beauty.