It began to sprinkle a bit during my walk this afternoon—just enough to make tiny dents in the dry sand. Each drop was a crater, sculpting its own descent into the white sand. This is a phenomenon I rarely see, for when it rains hard, all the sand is wet and the drops cancel out one another. But today I see the impact of one tiny drip, measurable in the sand, and I wonder about my impact on the world of people and nature. Sometimes, Lord, I am careless and wasteful with the world you’ve given into my keeping. I walk with heavy abandon, unthinking of the impact my presence has upon your creation. Recognizing that a single raindrop can leave its trace, may I strive to walk softly, to treat this earth more tenderly, and to tend with gentle affection the beautiful world you’ve given us. Amen.
Frequently on my walk I take a plastic bag to collect the refuse left behind on the beach. Empty beer and soda cans, plastic cartons that once held bait, plastic plates and broken foam coolers, bags with scraps of fast food take-out. I gather these broken pieces and wonder about those whose carelessness is made so visible. What they leave behind affects all who follow them, soiling the beach and requiring clean-up efforts of others. Then I wonder what I leave behind in my carelessness—do I scatter the refuse of broken promises, painful retorts, hurt feelings? Must others come in my wake and try to heal the scars I’ve caused? Forgive me, Father, for the detritus in my life, and please help me leave nothing behind that will destroy or litter your world or leave others in pain. Amen.
It began to sprinkle a bit during my walk this afternoon—just enough to make tiny dents in the dry sand. Each drop was a crater, sculpting its own descent into the white sand. This is a phenomenon I rarely see, for when it rains hard, all the sand is wet and the drops cancel out one another. But today I see the impact of one tiny drip, measurable in the sand, and I wonder about my impact on the world of people and nature. Sometimes, Lord, I am careless and wasteful with the world you’ve given into my keeping. I walk with heavy abandon, unthinking of the impact my presence has upon your creation. Recognizing that a single raindrop can leave its trace, may I strive to walk softly, to treat this earth more tenderly, and to tend with gentle affection the beautiful world you’ve given us. Amen.
Frequently on my walk I take a plastic bag to collect the refuse left behind on the beach. Empty beer and soda cans, plastic cartons that once held bait, plastic plates and broken foam coolers, bags with scraps of fast food take-out. I gather these broken pieces and wonder about those whose carelessness is made so visible. What they leave behind affects all who follow them, soiling the beach and requiring clean-up efforts of others. Then I wonder what I leave behind in my carelessness—do I scatter the refuse of broken promises, painful retorts, hurt feelings? Must others come in my wake and try to heal the scars I’ve caused? Forgive me, Father, for the detritus in my life, and please help me leave nothing behind that will destroy or litter your world or leave others in pain. Amen.