It's snowing steadily here in St. Paul today, making fresh the crusty, grey snowbanks and filling in the trampled paths of footed beings and their various conveyances. There's a large, messy squirrel's nest in a tree outside my office window. Someday I'm sure it will crash to the ground from the weight of accumulated clutter, but today it has a light, snowy frosting on the top. Apparently grey squirrels only use their nests in the spring and summer for raising their young, so no one is in residence there yet. They live in tree cavities during the cold seasons, according to the Minnesota DNR.
I have been working on a series of prayer cloths. This is "Prayer Cloth for Joan Henehan." They're sturdily made, fully washable and foldable, not meant for framing. I'm more and more attached to being at home as I navigate mid-life, and while I regard that as generally a good development, as with most things, it could devolve into a problematic inability to be unsettled or inconvenienced if not minded, I suspect. So these prayer-cloths are intended as something to be tucked into a corner of a suitcase, taken out, shaken and smoothed, and there, wherever you are, is your little center, a sacred space, your home in God no matter where you are. Mostly they want to be given away, so this one went to Joan Henehan, CSJ, who recently ended her term on our congregational leadership team. They're a prayer for the recipient as well as a focus for contemplation for me.
Today I'm thankful for: good eye-hand coordination, fresh snow, work that I enjoy, good friends. Praying for: the people of Kenya, people who work for ICE, especially Tim Counts, JN and all immigrants, all the people sick with the nasty viruses that are circulating these winter days, R's nephew.