I call to God;
God will help me.
At dusk, dawn, and noon I sigh
deep sighs—God hears, God rescues.
My life is well and whole, secure
in the middle of danger
Even while thousands
are lined up against me.
God hears it all…
The train sounds off in the distance, a little after
7. Across the street the neighbor’s door shuts.
The golden dogs begin wake up and shake, jingling
their collars. Somewhere behind the clouds, the sun
Teresa of Avila, a sixteenth-century Spanish mystic,
said, “Let nothing disturb you, nothing dismay you.
All things are passing. God never changes. Patient
endurance attains all things. God alone suffices.” A
promise to hold onto as the morning mist evaporates
into the heavens.
Upon the morning’s arrival, birds descend from their
nest and sing and dance. Outside, the clip-clap of a
runners pace disrupts the neighborhood’s slow pace.
The windows rumble as the ‘traffic’ picks up down
The world grows louder, but also the promise grows
more and more definite…
We look up at the morning star: in all the this God
takes God’s joy, and in us also, since we are God’s
creation and God’s children, God’s redeemed, and
members of God’s Christ. Sorrow at the fabulous
confusion and violence of this world, which does not
understand God’s love—yet we are called not to
interpret or condemn this misunderstanding, only to
return the love which is the final and ultimate
truth of everything, and which seeks all humanity’s
awakening and response.
The sun is slow to rise some days perhaps a way to
slow us down. To go out to walk slowly in this
world—this is a more important and significant means
to understanding, at the moment, than a lot of
analysis and a lot of reporting on the things “of
Don’t over think.
Don’t over Christianize.
God will help you.
God will help me.
God will help us.
Lest we forget, God hears it all…
[Adam Quine, Pastor of First Presbyterian Church