Morning prayer at home

I was awakened during the night by the drumming of rain on the roof of our cabin. It was a sound that put me right back to sleep, but not before thinking of the people, "my" people, back home who would gather for morning prayer at Our Saviour this morning. That Tal and I were at church, casually dressed for travel, last Sunday seems strangely long ago. It has been a good week.

Yesterday turned out to be a slow fishing day for everyone in camp -- including Chickie and Pat who took a couple hours off during the afternoon. It was Saturday, after all. That they had trouble finding fish made us feel a bit better. The wind blew hard all day. Just handling the boat and our equipment took most of the energy we had. It didn't rain on us, but traversing the wide bays of the lake left us both soaked. Luckily, we weren't dependent on our own fish in order to have supper, though by the time the supper hour rolled around, I would have been happy with PBJ!

These photos were taken yesterday evening -- before and after supper -- from the porch of the lodge which faces pretty much north. A quick and furious storm approached and passed through and we were left with low sun in the west illuminating the late evening.

This morning the clouds are low, but not solid. The sun plays on the water suddenly and briefly. A group of 8 is waiting to fly out, but the plane at the base in Bissett -- bringing in 6 barrels of diesel fuel as it comes -- headed out this morning, had to turn back and is grounded until the clouds lift a bit.

Morning prayer at Our Saviour. I'm grateful for everyone being willing to carry on in my absence. I'm also grateful to be in this place which reminds me in a pretty overwhelming way that every breath is prayer, if I'll let it be, if I'll simply be mindful of that miraculous way of breathing.