Sunday, June 10, 2012


With the day being somewhat hot and muggy, it was nearly seven-thirty in the evening before this old man left the house for an exercise walk through the park. Actually, I drove around and entered it from the main highway, parking at the south end and then set a good pace toward the north end for three orbits of the soccer field before reversing my route back to the car. The sun was starting to sink in the west, extending to me the shadows of the foliage along the creek bank for most of my journey. Only the far side of the flat oval track yet knew solar heat, but an almost negligible breeze made the whole event a pleasurable experience. It takes me nearly an hour, the pace I set not just some purposeless stroll, an amble wherein one simply soaks up the scenery as he goes. I am conscious of the world around me; but, unless interrupted by some event, a fellow traveler, children chasing each other across my path, my focus is usually on an attempt to connect with the Holy Ghost. I talk, mentally, to He who holds me in the palm of His hands. Prayer? Not exactly an “eyes-closed, hands-folded, kneeling-in-a-closet” sort of petition. As far as that goes, however, it has never been my habit to require such protocol even when opportunity provides space to afford it. For me, Christ abides within; and so, while there is always, in either instance, this sense of there being “distance” to be bridged, whether it be the heavens above me or the depths inside me, yet He is “with” me. The problem is my own humanity, not so much a matter of being “unclean” and separated from Him by the truth of who and what I am, but of being hindered by the fact that my brain has a hard time maintaining pursuit. One second my whole heart is reaching for the hem of His garment and the next thing I know, my thought process has strayed off into another area. Thus it is; and yet, in spite of it all, from time to time contact is established. For a few moments, there is a flow between us. Usually, nothing verbal on His part. Tangible nonetheless. If restricted in the physical freedom to surrender all, aware that the world around me would not understand, I find no reason to reject the spiritual bond of assurance that His presence provides. Tears fill my eyes and gratitude takes my tongue. Nothing healthier……


  1. I love this post. I believe sometimes walking (and sometimes rocking in a rocking chair, or sitting on my glider) turns me to prayer and helps keep my mind from wandering so.

  2. This posst, I believe, is something we need to teach our kids and our grandkids. Trouble is: too many have not yet experienced it for themselves....