PROLOGUE (cont.)
Let us then rise at length, since the Scripture arouseth us, saying: "It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep" (Rom 13:11); and having opened our eyes to the deifying light, let us hear with awestruck ears what the divine voice, crying out daily, doth admonish us, saying: "Today, if you shall hear his voice, harden not your hearts" (Ps 94[95]:8). And again: "He that hath ears to hear let him hear what the Spirit saith to the churches" (Rev 2:7). And what doth He say?

I have recently embarked on trying to pray the traditional monastic hours...well, sort of.  I am not disciplined enough yet to get up at 3 a.m. to pray matins/laud/prime, but I have tried praying matins according to the monastic breviary prior to praying morning prayer from the 1979 prayerbook.  Although I am really enjoying my time of prayer in the early morning, I must admit that winter might have been a bad time to start.  Jen and I tend to keep the heat way down overnight in the winter because we have flannel sheets with a down comforter and a pretty heavy quilt.  The problem, however, is that when my alarm goes off before the sun comes up, I am so toasty and warm that the last thing I want to do is get out of bed.  Plus, with it being dark out, it kind of feels like the entire cosmos is still sleeping.  But that's just the thing isn't it?  The world is wide awake.  The early morning hours just sound and feel different from the rest of the day.  Even though its quiet, it is a "loud" quiet.  It's as if the sun is trying to find through the darkness and if you just listen carefully enough, you can hear God whispering, "rise from your sleep." 

As I make my way down the stairs I am torn between bitter grumbling and joyous anticipation.  Now before one thinks I am too pious, please know that my anticipation is not so much for entering the Lord's presence in prayer, but rather for that first sip of coffee.  But, once I have had that first sip and I have gotten situated in my study, I do actually feel my heart getting softer.  I don't know if it's just the legal addictive stimulant, or if maybe, just maybe, it's the realization that I am about to have a conversation with the maker of the universe.  What I do know, however, is that I begin praying the venite which is quoted in today's portion of the prologue, like the sun trying to break forth from the night I feel my soul trying to leap out of my body.  It is so wonderful to feel this intimate exchange between the divine creator and myself that sometimes wish the sun didn't make it through; I don't want to lose that sense of anticipation of what the Lord might have in store for me that day.  It's in the early morning hours that hope and grace seem to abound the most.  The prospects of a new day presents us with the opportunity to experience the goodness of God anew.  The possibilities are in fact endless. 

May you and I avail ourselves to hear the cry of the Lord which is the divine's alarm clock for us to arise.  Amen.