
When all our honeybees died one winter, my husband and I decided our beekeeping days were over. The time had come to take out the hives in the corner flower garden and use the extra space to add a foot path through flowers, grasses, and shrubs. During the summer months, this simple, curving garden path became my early morning prayer walk.
In the cool of the day, I stand and gaze at the flower faces glistening and opening petals to morning sun, and my heart opens to Creator God, the same one who walked in the garden with Adam and Eve. It seems God is still dwelling, revealing, and walking in gardens.
What I experience is an awareness that God is walking the path with me, helping me start each morning in fellowship with his ever-creative, self-giving, empowering presence.
After breakfast and coffee, and just before I step onto the path, I wait, in a moment of listening, for today’s focus of prayer. One day it is thankfulness. With each two steps I say (and mean) “Thank you” (stepping with left foot) “for family” (with right). Left always the same. Right includes: fresh new mornings, God’s mercies, colors of flowers, people to love and serve, a faithful dog staying close, gentle breezes giving relief from heat, hope continually rising.
Another day, loved ones come distinctly to mind, and I picture them each in their places, facing their particular challenges. With each two steps I intercede for individual family members and friends. I often feel a real sense of participating in God’s purposes, asking in his will, that God’s heart is hearing my heart as I seek to hear his.
One morning, as the first rays of the rising sun shimmered through translucent petals, leaves glowed and dew drops sparkled, my heart lifted in praise. I felt God’s smile through the newness and beauty of life around me. With each set of left-right steps (taken slowly, savoringly) I spoke the praise I felt for God’s beauty, mercy, constancy, and for the way he offers new possibilities amidst the unfolding of each day.
Some morning prayer walks have included confession, as well as release and surrender.
I miss having a garden beehive with its fresh honey; but we enjoy observing the wide variety of native pollinators that visit our garden flowers. It has also become a welcoming prayer garden where faith and hope are pollinated. And starting my day with a few moments of prayerful communion in nature, is as sweet as honey.

If you enjoyed this post, I think you’ll enjoy reading my books:
Write & Publish Organically: Dig Deep, Tend the Soil, Help Newness Emerge
Glimpsing Glory: Poems of Living & Dying, Praying & Playing, Belonging & Longing
Remembering Softly: A Life In Poems
~
Note: I am re-posting this meditation, a slightly edited version of the post that first appeared in 2019 at: Godspace and then here.





