It’s 5:30 in the morning, but on other nights it’s been three, or four in the morning and I wake up reviewing my life, not as a matter of conscious choice, but as if my soul was already in the act and at the time of waking I am merely becoming aware of what was already in motion. On this morning as I mash upon and turn over the events of my life, as I jump from one image to another, looking at what I was striving for and what was driving me, it seems that all my life I have been fighting God for what he passionately wanted to give me. I wanted love and dignity, value and significance, and for some profoundly stupid reason I wanted to earn these things. I wanted to wear my deeds like a merit badge that I could sew on some kind of life sash across my chest. I have been stupid, and I am tired, perhaps tired like Jacob wrestling with the angel and I feel seconds away from having my thigh dislocated and becoming Israel.
Blessed Father, May the dislocation come to pass that I may lean hard upon the staff you have given me.