Do I see the sacred in the everyday?
When I awaken early in the morning
and heat the water to make my single cup french press coffee,
it’s easy to see the sacred in the water
ahhh… the coffee.
But do I see the sacred in the lunches I assemble while the water heats
and the grounds steep?
Or do I resent the quotidian task
that pulls me from my prayer?
It’s easy to see the sacred in a walk through the neighborhood
the shrubs and trees and flowers
the walkers with earphones or sticks or dogs
the sun rising higher into the sky
the air still cool in the morning.
But do I see the sacred on the drive to work:
The stoplights and the other drivers,
the needy people and the rough roads?
It’s easy to see the sacred in the bedtime routine
cuddles and books and conversation and prayers
Hugs and kisses goodnight
“I love you more”
But do I see the sacred in the trips out for water or tummy-aches
or the hurry of the morning, getting dressed and ready for school
or the more leisurely mornings when they awaken early
and eat my sacred space?
Is that sacred, too?
May I find the sacred in the dishes
and the homework
and the endless games of battle (Star Wars or Pokémon).
May I see the sacred in