Minute by minute

Luke is writing a curriculum for Choose to Share Christ, and I am sneaking a peek.  One of the exercises he is including is something called a "Here I am" prayer developed by Anthony Bloom.  The process goes like this:

• Resolve to be in prayer for at least five minutes. Do not answer the phone or allow yourself to be distracted from your goal.
• Be seated and say to yourself, “Here I am seated, doing nothing. I will do nothing for five minutes” (or longer, depending on the time you set for yourself).
• Begin noticing your own bodily presence—how your body feels next to the chair; how your feet feel against the floor. Relax your body. Notice what you feel inside.
• Now notice the presence of all that is around you. Say to yourself, “Here I am in the presence of the room.” Be aware of the furniture, walls, and any pets or people in the room. Just be present and silent in your environment. Relax even more.
• Now say to yourself and to God, “Here I am in the presence of God.” Repeat silently to God, “Here I am.” Bask in the presence of the Holy One until your time goal has been reached.

Now these are words I need to hear.  Expectation, whether of a baby or anything else, can be consuming. Certainly, every conversation we have in this house eventually turns to, if we go tonight...  These words recall me to the sacredness of the moment.

But, as we close in on the season of Advent, I am reminded that we are supposed to live with expectation.  We are called to live as those expecting the arrival of the Christ.  We are supposed to dwell so fully in every moment, day and place that we do not count on tomorrow's arrival.  

Living each day in isolation is a strange experience.  My normal week is given over to planning for today, tomorrow, next week and next month.  At this point, I have no idea what tonight will bring much less tomorrow.  All my meal plans, cleaning schedules, and projects have been laid quietly aside until my life returns to "normal."  Each day is spent dealing with only the needs of that day.  Simply.

I am pretty sure that if I spend too long in limbo land, my house and children will fall apart, but for right now (which is truly all I can deal with), I am where I am.