Saturday Morning, 3 a.m.

     It's the quiet time. In the old days it was a formal time of prayer when the brothers or sisters would gather to celebrate the Word of God. Everything begins with the Word. It is the Eternal God, our source.
   If I had to pick something to show you what it's like to become Franciscan, I'd begin with prayer. Our daily prayer, morning and evening, is mostly Scripture. We pray the Psalms, which are Old Testament, and then we pray from the Letters of the Church, which are New Testament. And in between we pray many blessings that all come from the Word somewhere, and intercessions that speak what's in our heart. So in our prayers we are reading and remembering the Bible, and you just can't do that every day without being changed. That probably explains why it is given to us to do.
   I suppose it's only natural to get curious about what you do every day, and that good curiosity leads us quite gently into new understandings, all normal enough. What I see happening though are changes to our hearts, both of us, even as we keep our different personalities, and search from our different perspectives, and understand according to our different needs. But our praying has softened us toward each other--the precious, hidden places that we protect from everyone are not quite hidden anymore. It's nice to have someone on the journey, to share your journey.
   We went to a concert by John Michael Talbot on Thursday evening and it was a wonderful mix of song, prayer and testimony. John Michael and his music have been part of our lives almost as long as we've been married. I first heard him sing when I was seventeen, in Tucson, so to rediscover him as a Christian songwriter and musician was wonderful. But better than anything else is his testimony to the Word of God. When one goes every day, morning and evening, to draw from that well, one appreciates any free gift from another of its sweet water...
   Which leads me to what's happening. As we pray the daily prayer, my curiosity and desire for God grow. The Prayer used to be in eight parts or "hours", which simply means "divisions" throughout the day. The Hours have been changed and combined to form seven periods. Two of these--morning and evening prayer--are called "Major Hours". These are the prayers JoAnne and I are asked to pray daily, though now it's like asking us to receive a treasure, twice a day. The other five periods are called the "minor hours" and the "Office of Readings". They have other names which escape me at the moment. But properly arranged it means that a person who prays all the Hours is praying all the day, with breaks between for working, eating, living. And lately I've been craving them all.
   But blessed be our Practical God, who gently lays his hand on my shoulder and says, "Get up and go to work, Boy!" Not all prayer is from a book, or formally written, or set out in Seasons and Rites. God's plan is for all our life to be a prayer, ceaseless and unending, like a garment woven in a single piece, without seams. To learn to pray like that is quite a journey. Saint Clare says it happens a little bit at a time. But I can witness to you now that it does happen. If you are a fan of the Advent season, if Christmas to you is a time for more than parties and presents, if the darkening days of November seem lit by the glow of an approaching joy, then maybe you know something of what I'm talking about. There comes a point, walking in prayer, where you realize there is light around you. That's the Advent hope; that's the attraction of daily prayer.
   And it's no understatement to say that when it happens to you, you could be content for the rest of your life with nothing more.

   I suppose that's why God gave us curiosity.