... not ... the righteous but sinners.
Read most of the current National Catholic Reporter yesterday. About 200 pages to go in Mumford. Open to my friends' suggestions for spiritual and theological reading. Looking especially for works by women and people of color.
Woke this morning grounded on the seesaw, with no partner on the other side to lift me up. Sped through morning prayer in the chapel, feeling like everyone around me was going much too slow. (Maybe they are, but certainly I am reciting the psalms too quickly.) Not a good start. Never been a morning person, and never will. How to bring the best of yourself at the hours when you are neither being nor doing your best ... this is the work of my continuing conversion.
House chapter this morning to touch on formation matters, namely the second formal evaluation; spirituality matters, including the quality of our common prayer and worship, the progress on our chapel renovations, and possible communal practices of prayer and penance for Lent; and fraternal matters, including reassignment to other house jobs. In all likelihood I will continue to edit The Caperone, as last year's editors served the whole year, but perhaps I may shift off of cleaning the exercise shed and sweeping the sidewalks. Thus this afternoon I expect to continue as it normally would, and I will be receiving and editing submissions while writing copy for the newsletter.
Worshipping tomorrow at the prison in the afternoon. Faith sharing yesterday was strong and spirited.
When I pray for myself, my prayer is for patience, and to be who I am today. The best man, not the groom. John the Baptist, not the Christ. Living in this hour, not demanding my hour to come before its time. Bringing my vessel to God, not empty, but brimming with water, so that Jesus, through the power of God's Holy Spirit, may draw wine from it.
The last two days were warmer than the seasonal average. If only every day were like them.