Empty Us of Fear

Heard a speaker this morning talk about chaplains in the armed services. Was grateful he used the words "living sacrifice" and not "ultimate sacrifice," a cliche reserved it seems for those we know nothing about other than that they died wearing a uniform. And when he made the connection between these servicewomen and men and Christ, he did not bring his listeners to the cross, but to the agony in the garden, and to the moments where one faces challenges far greater than even our bodily death.

empty us of fear

o Lord, and fill us 

with You

I walk in the afternoon, and it is already hot enough to tell the difference that shade makes when passing under a tree. But a good breeze hits me often enough.

The grass is bright and just high enough that it would alert homeowners and gardeners, but since it is a field, no one will do anything for several more days. It is just long enough to make me nervous, but I remind myself I have real problems to think about, and so I sometimes don't imagine getting between a mouse and a snake circling life.

I pass scattered debris from who knows where, and wonder what brought it there. I see mounds I know are doors for some kind of critters, but don't know what, and ask myself what I need to know about them. Then I realize I've lost the trail of conversation I am not sure I've started.

an empty plastic bag

stuck in the stiff grass

distracts contracts the mind