Thresholds are places we cross as we travel from one space to another. Wise ones write about intentionally considering thresholds as a spiritual practice.
One of my practices on this Lenten retreat on Tybee Island is being mindful of sunrises and sunsets as thresholds of the day. I’ve been up at 6 each morning to walk to the beach to watch the sunrise. On the other hinge of the day, I’ve been intentional about being present on the marsh to see the sunset.
These pauses have been spectacular not only because of their beauty, each unique to the conditions of that particular morning or evening. The experiences before, or even at that very moment, have also been part of what is being received.
This morning two doves, sitting in stillness, waited on the boardwalk I cross as if to give a blessing of peace to the day.
Soldiers from a nearby base ran along the beach as the sun rose, with heavy backpacks weighing them down, each young man leaving deep impressions of his boot prints in the sand. I offered a silent blessing, one by one, as they jogged past.
Since before Jesus’ time, holy men and women have stopped at thresholds throughout the day and offered prayers to God. I join them.