My column in The Melbourne Anglican, October issue
Sunday, October 12, 2014 at 02:37AM ‘When we moved to Brunswick, I walked and walked until it felt like home…I walked the length and breadth of Brunswick, and I felt that I was stitching it up. Stitching my footsteps all over this suburb that was … going to be my home. My trails felt like …those old schoolbook maps of Captain Cook or Christopher Columbus, like the Sunday School posters of Paul’s missionary journeys. I was stitching Brunswick into my heart, and I was stitching myself into the heart of Brunswick. I became part of its fabric, its weave, of the pattern that makes it the place it is, the place I was starting to fall in love with.’
I wrote that 15 years ago. Since then, I have continued to walk around my neighbourhood many thousands of times. I have also started working in the city, to which I walk daily, and that I walk around most days as well. And as I walk, I pray.
Prayer and walking seem a natural combination. The rising of my heart to God is easier when my limbs and lungs are working well. The rhythm of one suits the spirit of the other.
It can be contemplative, but a daily walk along the same track is also a wonderful opportunity for intercessory prayer. At each, familiar turn of the route, I pray for different situations and people. I start with those I love the best, progress to the extended family and work my way out – the people I work with every week day, people I know in difficult situations, the faith communities I have been involved with, my church, this nation and its leaders, the world, the various wars and epidemics and coups – at that point, needless to say, I give up and just say, ‘God I have no idea. Bless the nations,’ and leave it at that.
I am hopeless at politics and current events and activism, and it has taken me until well into my sixth decade to relax a little in the acceptance that maybe my call is to bring everyone and everything I know to God in prayer. For so long I was convinced that this was my way of wussing out of the real work. It was too easy, it came too naturally to me to be what God really wanted me to do.
These days I accept with less struggle that prayer is part of my call, my true vocation. ‘By their prayers, the monks keep the world turning,’ is a quote I love. I was away at the time of Jill Meagher’s murder, but my daughter told me you could feel a powerful vibe of fear and violence around our patch. When I walk around my neighbourhood and also in the city, I imagine my prayers weaving their way from me to everything and everyone I see in some kind of subtle blessing. Some sort of channel that lessens the vibe of fear and violence and anger and lets a little bit more of God’s big love into the world. Stitching God’s love into the places I go. It’s a tiny thing, but I think it’s part of what I’m here for.
Reader Comments (2)
As always, Clare, beautiful! I walk around my neighbourhood each morning as part of my quiet time and my prayer time - doing something similar to what you've shared here. What I find amazing is the connections that prayer walk then makes with those I meet during the day. It's a great way to start my day. Thanks for sharing your walking and praying.
Discovering your truth walking the streets of Rome and Venice. Only way to get to know your neighbourhood.