I think, I write

I often think about writing. I often think about praying. A couple of times I considered creating a spreadsheet to remind me to pray for different people.

I just could not decide whether the list should be alphabetical by first name or last name. The list is in my mind. I think of it throughout the day. Sometimes names will glow in my mind while I am at Mass, or when I am getting ready for bed or walking to the grocery store.
I spend too much time thinking. I want to spend more time praying.

I wonder whether I pray enough. I hope that I do.

Sometimes there is a wildness in my thoughts. Images go round and round. There is a repetition of words, sounds. I will unkempt and unworthy to stand before God. My head and heart are often turbulent places filled with doubt and hesitation.

I frequently walk on Connecticut Avenue. There are many restaurants and stores and other pedestrians. It's often a crowded, chaotic road. If I allow myself, I can get lost in the storefronts. Often the faces I see are tired or sad or melancholy. I sometimes wonder about how would Jesus Christ react to American urban life? Would his parables be different? Would his miracles be different?

Connecticut Avenue is on a slight hill. The old trolley used to run on this street.

I should be reading the Bible now. I am sitting in my apartment, without the stereo or television on. There is a stack of books waiting to be read by me. Some are religious others are literary. There is a wild combination fiction, poetry, biography and science. There is also a stack of different Catholic books. All are there to help me to think. Some are there to make me write.

I wonder what is the best way for me to honor and praise God.