I filled a jar for you, for me, and for the dreamers.

It is a jar filled. Filled with not so finely folded papers. Tiny, little papers. Not large sheets one would write a letter on. Just scraps. Pieces that had no meaning until the ink of the pen landed upon them. With the meeting of ink to paper, prayers form. Prayers of hope, hope for the future. The prayers of pain, the pain of yesterday, of heartbreak; the fear of tomorrow. Prayers of loss, confusion, uncertainty. Those tiny, once unused pieces of paper now hold the prayers of the young and old; the hopeful and the heartbroken.

They are prayers collected. Written, spoken, read in the body language of the sweet souls that have sat across the table from me. From the people I have encountered; the friendships that have been molded.
Collected.
Then nestled in the chair, I pull out each prayer. One by one. And pray for you.

Remember that time we talked, with the coffee stained table between us, cups of tea warming our winter worn hands. You told me about your fears and dreams. 
I wrote them down. Each one. Because prayers are not a one person deal. Those little things you told me with a smile spread across your face, those bigs things you whispered to me with a voice shaken by confusion. I wrote them down.

I filled a jar for you. For me. For the loss souls, the broken hearted. And for the young dreamers.

What I have been learning.

It begins with a rocking chair and tea.

Tea in a cup, hand crafted by the humble hands of a human. A human broken in a broken world. Unending pain, anger, confusion. Yet even amongst the broken, shattered pieces of this world joy is found. Joy is found while shaping a vessel of clay. A cup is shaped, which holds the fine perfection of tea. Tea that is sipped by me as I contemplate life from a rocking chair.

Five things to think on. Five things to comtemplate as I look out at big sky country. The mountain range of perfection. Why am I here? Why has God placed me here? In it I must be gentle, humble, and quiet. Listening is the key to the art of quietness. Here in this place I listen. I approach with gentleness and desire to hear. To hear the stories of broken people. I too listen for the voice of the Creator who shaped each triangle, each misshaped mountain. Among it all I pray for peace, discernment, for time. I pray among people. I pray alone. Praying for the brokenness of the Rez, the people I've encountered. And selfishly I pray for me, for my brokenness. I seek. Oh how I seek. In patience, I have received. And I've found peace in my quietness. Last, I remember that the shadow proves the sunshine. The trials of the beginning weeks. The baggage, the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty. How those trials have illuminated the greatness of the Creator. To go to the mountains, to seek our Creator. How I've grown. I find myself broken as all humans are. But I find hope in a Creator who has shaped the sky, the mountains, and me.

Five things to think on

First, to provoke thought:
why does God have me where I am?

A question I ask myself often, but a good one to think on. God is using us in every moment of every day. Be happy with where you are now, even if you'd rather be in a different place.

Second, to strive to be:
humble, gentle, and quiet

"Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." -1 Peter 3: 4

Third, to do more of:
PRAY

Prayer is strong. A friend recently shared a story of prayer with me, her experience brought me to tears. Prayer is powerful. Prayer is not limited to before each meal; be in constant communication with God. 

Fourth, to remember:
when you seek, you receive

"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." -Jeremiah 29: 13

Fifth, to know:
that the shadow proves the sunshine

The trials of life illuminate the greatness of God's love and grace. We have to climb the mountain in order to enjoy the view from the top.