At the beginning of the week, as I looked out the window and scanned the back yard, I spotted a doe, yes, “a dear, a female deer,” at the edge of the grass path that leads to the woods. Although tempted to step away to get my camera to try to capture the moment, instead I stayed and watched. For quite some time the doe just stood there in its peaceful, patient way, nibbling at the leaves of a branch. Every so often it lifted its head to glance all around, surveying and taking in the environment with its big, beautiful, pensive eyes. Then, in what seemed like a flash, it was gone, heading off deeper into the woods.

Thinking about this experience, I am struck by the faith that is needed to go into, or to return to, the wilderness. Yet, it is this very same faith that calls creation to the place that is less familiar, less comfortable, or perhaps altogether unknown. Even more, it is the same faith that assures us, moving us toward peace and patience, and helping us to know, we are never alone.

True faith awakens and arises us, calling us closer to the edge, and whispering: Come. Come deeper into the mystery that is God.

In Every Age – by Janet Sullivan Whitaker

Long before the mountains came to be
and the land and sea and stars of the night,
through the endless seasons of all time,
you have always been,
you will always be.

In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our refuge.
In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our hope.

Teach us to make use of the time we have.
Teach us to be patient even as we wait.
Teach us to embrace our ev’ry joy and pain.
To sleep peacefully,
and to rise up strong.

In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our refuge.
In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our hope.

You have been our refuge
You have been our hope.