On this Sunday morning, like almost every morning for several years now, I start my day with sitting in silence. Some days this time includes silent prayers; most days it begins with my mind jumping around from one thing to enough, what Buddhists call “monkey mind.” But if I stay with it, eventually things settle down, and something deeper happens. A Quaker elder was once asked, “How long should I pray?” And he responded, “Long enough that God starts praying you.”

Back in early February, I had a Sunday off, on the day before my birthday. That morning I thought about going to church with my wife, or visiting a nearby congregation where I’d love to hear the preacher. But I had the thought, “I don’t want to have to talk to anyone.” So I listened to that voice, and to my heart, and ended up spending the morning in our basement.

One of the things I know about myself is that getting outdoors, out in the air and under the wide sky, and feeling the ground under my feet, that this is good for my soul. It keeps me grounded and restores me. My wife Tracey and I went out for a walk yesterday morning. It was a bright and chilly day, and my hands and face were cold at the start. But you know what happens as you move—your body warms up from the inside. It’s good for you. I am so grateful to be able to walk, because it is so good for my soul.

I was going to see my spiritual director Mary today, my Sabbath day, and I was looking forward to it, because we haven’t seen each other in a while. But like lots of things these days, we had to cancel because our meeting place was closing due to the coronavirus. We talked briefly on the phone about how awful this current situation is, and she quoted a bishop she knows, who said, “The church is made for times like this.”