From the Rector…
I am not a fan of grocery shopping. I love food, but going to the store requires an enormous amount of mental energy as I try to resist temptation. It’s hard work, and I often leave mentally exhausted from battling the demons of sugary, over-processed snack foods—especially those that include the words “ice” and “cream” in the title. Grocery shopping is especially challenging at the beach, where I instinctively associate being there with vacation—even if it’s just for a weekend.
The other day, after arriving at the beach, unpacking, and getting ready to head to the store, I decided to try a tactic inspired by the late Irish priest, poet, and philosopher John O’Donohue. He once offered a simple prayer as a way to begin the day:
May you arise each day with a voice of blessing whispering in your heart
that something good is going to happen to you.
I lightly edited the prayer to ask that something good might happen to me at the grocery store, grabbed my reusable shopping bags, and headed to Publix.
I was perusing the chocolate aisle, trying to determine whether there was a less guilt-inducing sweet I might justify buying. I had already forgotten all about my prayer when I heard my name being called, followed by the question, “What are you doing here?” I’m used to hearing my name in the Montgomery Publix, where I frequently run into familiar faces—but not at the Orange Beach location. I looked up and saw one of Steve’s good friends and Bourbon buddies. We exchanged a hug and chatted briefly before continuing with our shopping.
That small moment of connection filled my heart and left me smiling for the rest of the trip. I completely forgot about the chocolate, finished my list, and headed back to the beach house. On the ride home, it dawned on me: my prayer had been answered. Something good had happened to me at the grocery store. It also occurred to me that I had forgotten to buy any chocolate. Win some, lose some.
That short prayer didn’t just reduce my reluctance to go to the store—it opened a receptive space in me, a space where the ordinary could become sacred. A simple, friendly greeting became an answered prayer.
I believe this is one of the gifts of the Christian life: learning to see the everyday, ordinary events of our lives as sacred—centered in God and rooted in our belovedness. I pray that you, too, hear the voice of blessing whispering in your heart that something good is going to happen to you today.
Light and Life,
Candice Frazer+