Morning Song

Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him for another morning, still, with sparkle-white grass in the cold
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him for the beauty and the mystery of this earth turning toward the sun again
Praise Him above ye heavenly host
Praise the Life-Breath, the One who is always near
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.



The sun comes, lifting above the trees glorious and brilliant. It sends out its light, touching my face, lighting my wall.

The Son came, rising up out of the grave, glorious and brilliant...and victorious. He sends out his light, touching the world, lighting my life.

Let everything that has breath...

"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord"  -Psalm 150:6

     I woke up this morning and outside my window as the sky started to turn gold I heard a crow calling...and calling...and calling. It continued for some time. I would stop paying attention and then become aware again that it was still going. It made me think of this Psalm.

"Let everything that has breath..."

     I like the thought that when you hear birds, crickets, tree frogs, cicadas...each chorus is joining together in the choir of the breathing in praise of our Creator-Lord. It was good to pause for a minute and watch the sun emerge from behind the trees and join with the crow outside in a moment of praise.

Psalm 150

Praise the Lord!

Praise God in his sanctuary;

    praise him in his mighty heavens!

 

Praise him for his mighty deeds;

    praise him according to his excellent greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound;

    praise him with lute and harp!

Praise him with tambourine and dance;

    praise him with strings and pipe!

 

Praise him with sounding cymbals;

    praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

 

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord!

I'm alive! Thank God!

          Guess what! I'm alive! How do I know? I can feel it. My body is sore from pounding the pavement, I feel the cool morning dew on my hot skin. I'm laying in a patch of shade in the grass, each limb spread out, catching my breath. I'm breathing, that's how I know I'm alive. I feel my heart beating hard. I can feel it in my head, my wrists, my stomach, my feet. My shoes feel too tight. I can feel them pinch, that's how I know I'm alive. I feel the grass grow warm beneath me and start to prickle. I feel the textured, soft hair of my dog who rests beside me. I feel. That's how I know I'm alive. I hear me heart in my ears. I hear my breath, finally slowing. I hear my dog pant beside me. The interstate roars in the distance, but over it I can hear the wind, made audible by the bare branches that stir above me. I smell sweat. I smell dog. I smell fall. It is good to be alive. It is good to be aware. I thank God for my life, for my next breath. It's Thanksgiving after all, today of all days He should be thanked for the life He gives.

                                   

My running buddy, Ace

                                  

St. Patrick's Breastplate

Christ be with me

Christ within me 

Christ behind me 

Christ before me

Christ beside me

Christ to win me

Christ to comfort 

and restore me

Christ beneath me

Christ above me

Christ in quiet 

Christ in danger 

Christ in hearts of 

all that love me

Christ in mouth of

Friend and stranger

       Some days you wake up and know that He is there, before, beside, behind, within. Some days you have to pray this prayer. His presence hasn't left, but some days you just need to remind yourself. Some days you pray it for the one who has walked away. You can't follow, save or protect, but Christ can.