God and I walk in the early morning. I take the dog along. God talks. I listen. The dog sniffs and pretends she can still hunt. We go early because God is busy; my joints ache if I don't move soon after arising, and the dog has needs to address.
Along the way God points out the glistening dew or a large tom turkey sauntering down the street, and, occasionally a reddish fox as it dashes across the street and into the woods. The dog plods on but looks back now and then as if to ask, "What are you guys talking about?" or "Are we almost home?"
When I come back from my walk I'm ready to "perform the duties the day." Undoing the dishwasher or folding a load of laundry -- even paying a few bills -- seems natural and life affirming. Along our walk God has reminded me I am fortunate to have clothes to wash and food to place on dishes.
God and I have reached an understanding. I speak late in the day through evening prayers. I can say anything I want, whatever I feel. He listens. In the morning he talks, tells me how to readjust my priorities -- reminds me to call my father -- and offers simple suggestions like, "Don't fret over writing a book; just write a chapter when you feel like it." "Remember you are loved, healthy and able."
Walking with God is an ancient practice. It goes at least as far back as Noah. The text of Genesis 6:9 tells us, "Noah walked with God." That text also says Noah was a righteous person "in his generation." The rabbis suggest Noah was a pretty good guy when compared to many others of his time. He had faults, but they were relatively minor (at least in the early part of the story).
Some traditions suggest Abraham was more righteous than Noah because he "walked before God, ahead of God." I have to admit I feel quite fortunate to get up in the morning to walk with God and Ruchi Marie (our dog). Sure, I would like to reach what the rabbis considered the higher plateau of Abraham -- knowing what God wants before it has to be articulated; but I rather like the current dialogue and my incremental awareness. I don't want to be more like Noah or Abraham; just more fully Albert.
Sometimes I have to walk later than I might wish. There are other responsibilities, or ungodly weather. At times I'm too tired to absorb any more messages. Now and then I wonder what the response might be if I were to say, "Oh, I rarely attend early morning meetings; that's my time to walk with God!" So God and Ruchi and I walk. I listen to words and wisdom waiting to be shared. My inner world improves, the day goes on and at night I say: "Thank you, God. See you in the morning!"
Albert Micah Lewis is rabbi of Congregation Beth El in Traverse City.
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