Guarding the Stone

Time.  It's all we have and yet never have enough.

We rush trying to pack in a million things and are blinded to the holiness that surrounds us.  

The wonders of the everyday.  The divine conversations we take part in day after day--all heavenly.

There's a pin ball machine banging in the background.  A baby playing.  And the holy rosary being prayed both on the television and in my head.

I stop.  Slow.  Listen.  I breathe in holiness and deliberate how to seal it in--like the stone rolled in front of the tomb.  

And yet like the body of Jesus disappearing, the peace inevitably finds a way to escape.  The one guarding the stone falls asleep at least twenty times a day.

A type of sleep apnea of the soul, I presume.

Racked sleep and cessation of breathing in holiness.

Today, I fight to stay awake.  To keep watch over the stone.  To seal in those things that are good and Spirit-filled.

Things that are divine, barely spoken, beautiful.  

I hide them in my heart and stand guard.