The window

"To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul." — Psalm 25:1

There is a window in the morning before the heat comes and I try to be in my chair with my coffee and my journal before it closes. By seven the sun has found the kitchen and by eight the kitchen has found the temperature it will keep until evening and after that there is no undoing it.

This morning I was early. The coffee was ready before six and I sat at the table and the house was still cool and the light was the kind that comes in low and sideways and does not ask anything of you. Biscuit was on the porch. The birds were at it. The world was working its way into the day the way it always does, without anybody's help.

I prayed in the window. Not the kind of prayer that asks for things but the kind that sits with what is already here and says thank you for the cool air and the coffee and the hour before everything heats up. There are days when prayer is work and days when prayer is rest and this was a rest day and I am grateful for them when they come because I know they do not come every morning and I have learned not to take them for granted.

The window closes and the day begins and the heat comes and there is nothing to be done about it. But the window was there and I was in it and that is enough for a Monday.

Ruby keeps a collection of prayers at her kitchen table. You can find them here.