June 2nd, 2023
by Paul Cypert
The Prairie scape that I am most familiar is located in the High Plains of Texas. I love the solitude. It stills my soul. And it is in these prairies I have spent much of my time. There is no scrutiny, constant observation, no critique, dissonance. Just the winds, the critters and His presence. It’s as if I belong there. The expanse of sage and grass, the creek bottoms, and wood lots. The surprise of a sage brush buck getting up from his bed tasked now only with flight as he races away through the pasture lands unimpeded except for an occasional 5 wire barbed fence which he clears with a bound never breaking stride.
I enjoy the transitions. Night becomes morning and the day gives way to the night, it is ancient and old, it never strays from its appointed course. Some critters seek rest and safe haven for the night but, another whole group of critters rise to feed and hunt. It is as if the Prairie casts a spell on this transient moment as the day wanes. The yodel of the coyotes, and cautious but noble Whitetails appear suddenly in the dimming light. A great Horned Owl leaves his day rest and takes flight. Then with all the to do of a jumbo jet, a Rio Gobbler not looking like he was built to fly, does! He finds an airstrip of open ground and runs to gain speed, flapping his wings vigorously for a launch, although awkward there is flight. He gains altitude and ascends to a roosting tree, high above the predators.
Then as the sun slips below the horizon silence washes over the prairie and the night moves. The stars appear one or two and then all about they shine. You just don’t know the exact moment but it happened.
The High Prairie Plains of Texas is sparsely populated, unpolluted by artificial light. The night sky showcase stars so bright that it makes them seem almost touchable.
In this immense scape forged by time, the land is almost unbroken, just a few ranch roads, like a sentinel a lone windmill stands, a pump jack, a small set of cattle pens, an irrigation pivot crawls in a slow circle around a thirsty wheat field but they don’t seem out of place, I hardly notice.
The land seems strong and proud, existing and thriving though countless challenges thrown at it through the centuries. Storms, drought, fire and the plows of man yet it remains and flourishes.
I ponder that ‘all of life is a miracle’ it’s just more obvious in some places. And my soul like the night move awakens the hunter and I pursue the Ancient of Days.
The desert fathers and mothers of the early 3rd century, ancient followers of Christ, developed and created what they called, ‘A Rule of Life’. A Rule of Life is an intentional, conscious plan to keep God at the center.
The ancients crafted their own practices in partnership with the Trinity and through the ages the faith community called these spiritual disciplines. Often the same practices were found among the many practicers of the Rule. The Rule of Life is intended to take advantage of your natural rhythms. These practices became sacred moments when the ordinary and the Holy intersected.
Solitude was a common practice. That’s why they moved out to the deserts of Egypt. These practices became ways for the practicer to be diligent about keeping watch over his souls. In the book of Deuteronomy 4:9 it says, “Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children— ESV Version.
Yes, it is getting away from the hurried interactive lives we live.
Solitude for me isn’t time at a monastery or retreat center. They certainly are for some. It is although the quietness and beauty I find in nature that has that power to quieten the noise. Sometimes that is my front porch or my side yard. For me solitude is a ‘Rule In My Life’ … I set aside the time and find favorite places of solitude and solace. And … What I have found in my solitude and silence is that God still speaks.
You will be hearing much more from FTGW in the days and months to come concerning ‘A Rule Of Life’, ancient Good Way Practices of the amazing Christians that lived and flourished in times long gone and as well as contemporary followers of Jesus.
Lives well lived and ‘Days Well Spent’
I enjoy the transitions. Night becomes morning and the day gives way to the night, it is ancient and old, it never strays from its appointed course. Some critters seek rest and safe haven for the night but, another whole group of critters rise to feed and hunt. It is as if the Prairie casts a spell on this transient moment as the day wanes. The yodel of the coyotes, and cautious but noble Whitetails appear suddenly in the dimming light. A great Horned Owl leaves his day rest and takes flight. Then with all the to do of a jumbo jet, a Rio Gobbler not looking like he was built to fly, does! He finds an airstrip of open ground and runs to gain speed, flapping his wings vigorously for a launch, although awkward there is flight. He gains altitude and ascends to a roosting tree, high above the predators.
Then as the sun slips below the horizon silence washes over the prairie and the night moves. The stars appear one or two and then all about they shine. You just don’t know the exact moment but it happened.
The High Prairie Plains of Texas is sparsely populated, unpolluted by artificial light. The night sky showcase stars so bright that it makes them seem almost touchable.
In this immense scape forged by time, the land is almost unbroken, just a few ranch roads, like a sentinel a lone windmill stands, a pump jack, a small set of cattle pens, an irrigation pivot crawls in a slow circle around a thirsty wheat field but they don’t seem out of place, I hardly notice.
The land seems strong and proud, existing and thriving though countless challenges thrown at it through the centuries. Storms, drought, fire and the plows of man yet it remains and flourishes.
I ponder that ‘all of life is a miracle’ it’s just more obvious in some places. And my soul like the night move awakens the hunter and I pursue the Ancient of Days.
The desert fathers and mothers of the early 3rd century, ancient followers of Christ, developed and created what they called, ‘A Rule of Life’. A Rule of Life is an intentional, conscious plan to keep God at the center.
The ancients crafted their own practices in partnership with the Trinity and through the ages the faith community called these spiritual disciplines. Often the same practices were found among the many practicers of the Rule. The Rule of Life is intended to take advantage of your natural rhythms. These practices became sacred moments when the ordinary and the Holy intersected.
Solitude was a common practice. That’s why they moved out to the deserts of Egypt. These practices became ways for the practicer to be diligent about keeping watch over his souls. In the book of Deuteronomy 4:9 it says, “Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children— ESV Version.
Yes, it is getting away from the hurried interactive lives we live.
Solitude for me isn’t time at a monastery or retreat center. They certainly are for some. It is although the quietness and beauty I find in nature that has that power to quieten the noise. Sometimes that is my front porch or my side yard. For me solitude is a ‘Rule In My Life’ … I set aside the time and find favorite places of solitude and solace. And … What I have found in my solitude and silence is that God still speaks.
You will be hearing much more from FTGW in the days and months to come concerning ‘A Rule Of Life’, ancient Good Way Practices of the amazing Christians that lived and flourished in times long gone and as well as contemporary followers of Jesus.
Lives well lived and ‘Days Well Spent’
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