My Daily Walk (Psalms and Prayers)

Somewhere in my college years I found that I needed to jog on a regular basis in order to maintain some semblance of health.  Routine was hard to come by back then and with a certain lack of follow-through, discouragement soon followed.  So, I resorted to mind games and soon my motto became: "Aim for five jogs a week.  Be happy with four.  Accept three."  That mantra kept me jogging pretty much throughout my adult life.

A knee injury a few years back devolved those jogs into walks.  But now I'm pleased to simply say, "the most common is six".  These are their stories:

What gifts are these?

These moments fleeting midst the timeless.

Keepsakes inscribed by the very finger of God. 1

Brief encounters made mindful by a body full with age.

Each giving witness unto His glory.

The route is rutted by routine.

The pathway forever untouched and fresh.

With passing days, the seasons change, then revolve.

But vision fades, the heartbeat slows, rest ensues.

Members worn by the journey speak in protest.

Weary they cry while the mind basks in the past.

Recall to run, to sprint......then again, glide.

Reflections linger, then with purpose served, escape.

Often alone but never lonely.

Solitude patiently waits somewhere just ahead.

Here too, the Father's secret place. 2

My soul enters His presence and is renewed.

Always at peace but seldom bored.

Lessons, many heavy, well-up from a youth long past.

Reminders all of how this man came to be.

Contentment and thanksgiving wash over.

Constantly seeking but completely content.

Oh, to fathom His invisible attributes,

Being understood by the things that are made. 3

 All creation, great and small, testify unto His Glory.

What blessings are these?

1  Exodus 31:18 (NKJV).                          

2  Matthew 6:6 (NKJV)                             

3  Romans 1:20 (NKJV)                           

A few humble pieces of creation captured this Spring:

Wild rose next to the trail.

Salmon berries.  A taste from my youth.

Robin's nest.  I think it had blown out of a tree
and someone placed it next to the trail.

Apple blossoms of a "heritage" tree.
The apples in the Fall are small, but equally profuse.
The homestead itself has long since disappeared into the brush.

Camass (purple) with Star-lily (white).