The furnace gently whirs in the background warming the room and lulling the senses. Its soft white noise soothes this moment quiet. The muted glow of a single lamp falls gently across my lap as I wait for my world to awaken.
It has been a long morning – one of those that started well before daylight and lingers an eternity. This first real “cold” morning of the season blows frigid outside my windows and I am caught between.
This is the week of Thanksgiving. We have named it so and dance around it with parades, football, turkeys and pies. We have filled it to the brim with food, family and fun but leave little room for grace and gratitude. We hunger for more and miss the treasures we already hold.
So here I sit watching the last few leaves fall from limbs stripped bare and ponder this truth. This season has barely begun and I have far too quickly forgotten what has just ended. The multicolored beauty so quickly overlooked and woefully, lost for eternity. I struggle with transient nature of this world – the revolving door where graces walk in and graces walk out.
I don’t want to forget a moment and yet, I feel like I forget them all.
They are lost in the worry and the rush. They are tossed aside for the things more pressing. They are drowned out by that which howls louder. Their gentle presence comes and goes with barely a notice and yet, I am wanting for it.
So now, in this present moment the words of St. Jerome echo long into my soul, “Begin to be now what you will be hereafter.”
Begin now.
The grace of this present moment will not tarry and I cannot hold what I do not to see or hear.
Begin now.
And, so I do. Begin now to welcome in the graces and give gratitude before all else – before the incessant chatter of empty words; before the impatient demands of this harried world and before they vanish unnoticed. It seems fitting this week of Thanksgiving to hunger for what I already have and give thanks for all that already is.
“Lord, give me an open heart to find You everywhere, to glimpse the heaven enfolded in a bud, and to experience eternity in the smallest act of love.
Mother Teresa