Tonight, I will share with you what I am reading. The weather is supposed to warm over the next few days and when that happens I pull out this essay. It's an essay about chinooks and the grace of God. An essay that reminds me of home, no matter where I am. I love reading writers from the prairies and the way they capture experiences I have felt and seen. Maxine Hancock writes so beautifully here and in her book Gold From The Fire. If you have spent any time in southern Alberta, you will have known this experience first hand. And if you haven't, read on anyways.
I love the prayer at the end of the essay. I have prayed it often in life and I am praying it again tonight. I know Christmas is around the corner but November can be a tough month. We are tired from all that September and October took out of us, we are often sick or caring for those that are sick while we are sick. And perhaps, as you look towards the list of things to get done for the Christmas season, it all feels like too much. So I will leave you this prayer.
"Come, holy wind of God, over the mountains of our lives, I pray. Do not tiptoe or whisper, but roar, laugh, melt. Take over the town. Alter our plans. Breathe into us again the breath of life that is exhilarating, joyful and open to grace."
May it be in your life and may it be in mine.