Good Morning Mystic

It’s been a long night.  I’ve been sitting here on the east porch waiting for what seems likes hours for the day to break.  Finally…the sky begins to change.   I watch the sun push its way up and over the horizon.   Slowly, surely, a bright white orb elbows the grey out of the sky and shines like a spotlight through the trees.  I squint and turn from the light.  It takes a moment or two for the sun to warm to the sky but then, there it is…the familiar, brilliantly golden comfort.  My eyes have adjusted to the light and I turn to face the new day.

Waiting, watching, hoping in the stillness…this is the first hour for me, a divine hour.  It’s no mystery why the sacred pre-dawn darkness is a prime time to pray.   This canonical hour is technically called “Prime” and was added to the Liturgy of the Hours by St. Benedict in the 5th-6th century.  Surely the urge to pray at this special time of day is far more ancient than St. Benedict’s time.

I wonder how many women through the centuries have sat in the dark to await the arrival of the sun…just like me?  I’m a twenty-first century woman.  I’m well aware of the earth’s rotation around the sun and yet, I’m relieved to see the new day.  I’m privileged to add my own daily sigh of relief to see darkness into light to the collective, to contribute my own prayer of thanksgiving for the feel the warmth of the sun on my skin once again and the comfort of knowing the day has begun.