Oak Openings’ yellow trail is a study in opposites. Hard ground gives way to sandy soil. Sweet smells turn to brackish odors. Shadows part in a shaft of sunshine raining down like wheat from a hopper. A wooded park is a place to contemplate opposites, those paradoxes that are integral to our Christian faith. Emptiness leads to fullness. Absence leads to presence. Death leads to life. Earth leads to heaven.

Our day is filled with opposite ends of the spectrum; for example, Kathleen Norris writes of liturgy and laundry, both routines that can lead to worship. Maybe for you it’s taking children to soccer practice. Or sorting socks and organizing agendas for an important meeting. Or taking out the trash and bringing in a friend who’s grieving.

Today bless God for the opposites in your life, and see each circumstance as an opportunity to find Christ in the midst of daily occupations. St. Therese of Lisieux herself said that Christ was most abundantly present not in prayer but in the midst of the ordinary daily occupations.

When I walk around the lake or into the woods, I have a feeling of expectancy. Will I see deer? Will a heron fly across the lake? Will I need to sidestep poison ivy? When on a leisurely stroll or an urgent errand, I am attuned to whatever will be, to whatever I’ll meet. Something is always afoot! Those times make me wonder how much I miss at other times. What did I miss when cooking a meal, talking on the phone, driving to work, or playing a game? What did I miss when praying Morning Prayer or attending Sunday worship? Surely, something sacred is always afoot!

O God, give me a sense of expectancy to find you around the corner.

I picked red raspberries last evening, a good night to do so with wind and few mosquitoes. The secret to getting every berry is to pick carefully going in one direction, then coming down the same row in the opposite direction. The different perspective yields more berries. Paula D’Arcy in her book Seeking with All My Heart tells of the death of family members, victims of a drunk driver. For her the driver was a “symbol of negativity and loss,” “an enemy and a force of ruin.” Then through a powerful experience of forgiveness, she saw that same man as “an agent of love.” Her different perspective yielded a deeper spiritual life. This morning I’m looking from one perspective at the coming day. Cooking meals at Lial Renewal Center, shopping for groceries, playing piano for the parish Mass. At the end of the day I will look back from a different perspective. Will I see feeding the hungry, leading the people in praise of God, and taking care of things that need to be done?

Today practice changing perspective. From how many angles can you see a situation? The reality may be closer to the perspective from which God sees.

Today we celebrate St. Benedict. He reformed the way monks–and we–pray the Liturgy of the Hours (Divine Office). He chose the “Lite Psalter” method of fewer psalms and shorter hours (prayers prayed periodically throughout the day). Before his reform some monks would claim “One for the strong!” meaning they would allow themselves only one hour of sleep, giving 23 hours to prayer. In this way they felt they followed Jesus’ dictum to “pray always.” To stay awake they prayed 150 psalms, the whole Psalter.

Another interpretation of “pray always” is to punctuate our day with prayer. I’d much rather do that! Today be like Benedict.  Pray fewer prayers, but fully engage in prayer. Also try saying a short prayer before beginning the next activity, or use down times like waiting on the computer or emptying the dishwasher as times of prayer.

Who invented the phrase “feet in the air”? Could it have been the apostles as they looked up as Jesus ascended? Was their last visual memory of their Master “feet in the air”? I’ve been reading about the Jesuits who so often went off to a mission land at a moment’s notice. Probably most members of religious communities have experienced some kind of rapid exit from one place of mission to the doorway of another. I sometimes get caught up in wondering where I’ll be a year from now, six months from now, even a week from now. I dislike the “feet in the air” feeling. If only I’d focus on the present moment, I’d be on terra firma, secure on the ground of being in God.

How do you stay “grounded”? What spiritual benefit resides in living the present moment?

When people need our attention, sometimes we can give them only a minute or two of listening. And maybe their spoken or unspoken requests can find only a little space in our heart. Perhaps we’d like to give them more of ourselves and our time. Or maybe we begrudge the little we give. Regardless, the tiny space I give may be just large enough for a tiny wedge of the Kingdom of God to fit.

 We might wonder, “What did Jesus look like?”

“What does God look like?”

Then remembering that we are made in the image of God, we may hear God say to us, “I look like you.”

Perhaps you’ve asked someone to write you a letter of recommendation. If so, you chose someone you could trust, someone honest (but not brutally so), someone with good language skill.

The one who knows us best is God. What would God write for our letter of recommendation?

My typical day is filled with ordinary tasks. As a liturgist/musician I write General Intercessions, select songs, practice music, post hymn numbers. As a member of a team caring for Lial Renewal Center, I perform many mundane activities: weeding, sweeping, dusting, washing windows and dishes. In some way these tasks coincide with the creative work of God. At least that’s what Teilhard de Chardin claims. The completion of creation is in your hands and mine. What a great incentive to do all things—even the most humble—well.

Appreciating creation and then thanking the Creator is a beautiful way to know and love God. A waterfall reminds us of the God of Life. A newborn reveals the God of Tender Love. Flowers, insects, and animals are an endless source of amazement in the God of Infinite Creativity. When appreciating nature leads to thanking God, the direction goes from creation to Creator. But there is another direction; that is, from Creator to creation. In God I appreciate the waterfall. With God I love the baby. The God of Infinite Creativity shows me a new way to look at flowers and animals. More and more people are looking at the Universe Story, the story that goes in both directions. We look at the expanding universe and are amazed at God’s brilliance. We look at the Firstborn of all Creatures and begin to understand how each flower, insect, or person “continues in being” (Colossians 1:17).

O God, you are the beginning of all. The universe resides in you. Bring me closer to You so that I can come closer to your creation.