Sabbath September

In some little corner of my soul I want to be a contemplative. I want to enjoy centering prayer and meditation. I want to be quiet and still, connecting with the Divine in sacred moments of undeniable peace. And on occasion, I have. I can read the Bible all day long, but until God shows up and whispers, "I'm here," it's never enough for me. I find God in the ordinary continuously. I see His fingerprints in the sunrise, the sunset, and the seasons.

Spiritually speaking, this summer might as well have been winter. Rough, cold edges on a faith in transition threatened to plunge this soul into despair. It was an important season, but not one I'd like to walk through again any time soon. Prayers were hard to pray. In honest moments, through a veil of tears, my soul would whisper, "Where are You in this?" And faithfully God was there, "I'm here." No explanation, no apology, no deadline to the frustration, just, "I'm here."

And it was enough. He was enough.

September is my favorite month spiritually. It's as if the calendar page turns and peace descends for no other reason except it's September. I can breathe again. I can pray again. Regular, thankful prayers whispered to a God who is my everything. Hope has come in various ways-people, friendships, professional relationships and a church that is sacred space for me. And I'm thankful.

September feels like a long Sabbath for me, like a month of Sundays. I always let myself just "be" in these days. I let myself believe that where I am is where I need to be. I trust in Divine guidance and find permission to be still and know and wait willingly. I settle in with the questions, okay without answers. It's as close to contemplative as this life gets.

It's a month of prayer for me, connecting with a God who is always enough, redefining devotion, yoga, long walks in cooler weather, reading, quiet nights with tea and a blanket, long conversations, sleeping with the windows open and peace.

September, you have come with perfect timing and this life is glad you're here.