Annie Dillard wrote the introduction for Wind on the Sand: the Hidden Life of an Anchoress by Pinions (a pseudonym). I'll admit, that's the reason why I requested it from the library a year or so ago. I didn't even know what an anchoress was and had to look it up in the dictionary: "A woman who has retired into seclusion for religious reasons." Pinions' vocation was prayer and so with the help of a benefactor (the church, if I remember right) she moved into a small cottage and in seclusion she prayed. All day, every day: it was her job. This week, I was reminded of this book when I came across a contemporary, urban, noncloistered example of praying as a job. I met an attorney who employs three people to do nothing but pray for this city.
“Thou takest the pen – and the lines dance. Thou takest the flute – and the notes shimmer.
Thou takest the brush – and the colors sing. So all things have meaning and beauty in that space beyond where Thou art.
How, then, can I hold anything back from Thee.”
— Dag Hammarskjöld, Markings
_