Bread for the Journey

Lately I’ve been composing text for quite a few projects. Have I mentioned that I really don’t enjoy writing? Yet it’s clear to me that God is calling me to write here, on my blog. The other situations involve helping others understand projects I’m excited about. I’m involved in creating a prayer room for General Assembly, so descriptions are needed to explain the various opportunities to pray. Having just completed a labyrinth, I’ve been asked many questions about it, so I’m writing about the process of making one, including a bit of history, and explaining how to use it as a tool for prayer. Posters need to be created for the large Presbyterian gathering, and some require special forms to fill out. More words.

Today my calendar reminded me it’s National Day of Prayer. When there are too many words in my life, it’s hard for me to focus. In Naked Spirituality, Brian McLaren suggests praying with just twelve simple words. Today my word was “here.” It helps for me to be reminded that God is here in this place, wherever I am. When my life is full of too many words, I can focus on the simplicity of one.

Hold your palms open, saying, “I am here in this place now…I am here in this place, open to you, God.” ~ Brian McLaren

My story continues from yesterday…I first felt a strong yearning. I cannot explain any of this in words, but it is something I needed to follow. I believe there are mysteries so deep that we cannot understand, and that’s okay. The hard part is letting go of our habits and desires to gain control in order to find the answers we are searching for. And that’s where the Holy Spirit comes in!

Last summer, the Spirit breathed new life into me as I trekked on a pilgrimage across the country to people and places I did not know. I planned this journey thinking I would be listening to other people’s stories of faith. When they, in turn, asked me to share my story, doing so was personally transformational. I returned home with new discoveries about my pursuit in faith and a deeper conviction about allowing opportunities for us to share our stories.

The more I draw closer to God, seek God in all, and strive to live my life as a prayer, the more I realize I cannot do it alone. This is hard work; I need help! When I struggle with faith, God answers with strength and endurance to persevere.

I have learned to be grateful for all I have experienced; consolation as well as desolation. It is through perseverance and commitment that I am growing to discover more about who I am and who God created me to be. Allowing myself to be at peace with my true self offers glimpses of heaven on earth. God abides in our hearts, and we are nourished by what we are rooted in: God’s love. If we listen and follow our hearts to where God leads us, we calm our restless hearts and allow God’s glory to shine to the world.

Why was I, a lifelong Presbyterian, led to become a Benedictine oblate? As a musician, I was first drawn to the St. Meinrad community by the beautiful chanting of the monks. The Liturgy of the Hours and regularly practicing lectio divina introduced me to a rhythm of prayer that deeply spoke to me. I decided to make the commitment to become an oblate; becoming a partner in prayer with this monastery and deepening my relationship with Christ. I am now being nourished through two faith communities. What I learn about the Benedictine way of life empowers me as I lead contemplative prayer groups in my own Presbyterian faith community.

My journey has been long and not always easy, but through learning to “listen carefully with the ear of my heart” (Prologue to St. Benedict’s Rule), God called me to a place where I would begin to discover my true self. Hearts do not lie and my heart was restless; I was in a dark place. God’s voice spoke to me repeatedly, though patiently, until I awoke enough to realize I had to change and save my crumbling soul. To live, I first had to re-discover gifts, musical gifts, that had remained hidden for fifteen years. Gifts I needed to revive my soul. At the same time, I learned how to listen to God.

Part two tomorrow…

I love this poem. It is especially poignant while in the midst of such exceptionally beautiful weather. Finally spring? We notice, God!

i thank you God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes; (i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth); how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any–lifted from the no of all nothing–human merely being doubt unimaginable you? (now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened) ~ e e cummings

It is our daughter’s birthday. I thought of her this morning as our students led a beautiful worship service. When she lived at home she was very involved at church. It was a second home to her. Now that she’s in a different city we look forward to her visits, but she is still very much a part of our church community. I hear her in the music; singing and ringing. I see her in the people; the relationships that shaped her. I feel her memory and presence throughout the church; her constant love. Although she lives far away, we are still connected. That’s what God does! God creates and nourishes so we can grow to be ourselves, sustained by our faith. Every person who knows our daughter helped to shape who she is today. And for that I am grateful.

I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. – John 15:5

The past two days I have observed a woodpecker pecking at the ground in our backyard. It confused me because my whole life I’ve heard the woodpecker’s hollow tapping sound on wood as they search for insects. Even the occasional metallic clang of “beak on pole” is familiar, although it does make me wonder what the bird is thinking. I also feel the pain I expect it should experience and I cringe each time I hear its rapid percussive rhythm. I’ve never suffered a concussion before so, unless you’re a woodpecker, this is a sure way to experience one.

I had to find out why this woodpecker pecking on the ground was so confused. Apparently I was the erroneous one. With apologies for offending any woodpeckers or their friends, my research clarified that this is not unusual behavior for Northern Flickers. It is humbling to realize how easily I made the wrong assumption about the woodpecker.

….harmonious, exhausted, energetic, sore, uplifted, downtrodden, strong, intricately woven…. Amazing as they are, they reveal much about our health and our soul. If I sense something in my body, rather than ignore it, I’ve learned to listen to what it’s telling me.

Your mind can deceive you and put all kinds of barriers between you and your nature; but your body does not lie. Your body tells you, if you attend to it, how your life is and if you are living from your soul or from the labyrinths of your negativity. . . . The human body is the most complex, refined, and harmonious totality.

Your body is, in essence, a crowd of different members who work in harmony to make your belonging in the world possible. . . . The soul is not simply within the body, hidden somewhere within its recesses. The truth is rather the converse. Your body is in the soul. And the soul suffuses you completely. ~John O’Donohue

Right now, my body is telling me to pray and go to bed.

Today it finally felt like spring, so a friend and I (you guessed it!) walked an outdoor labyrinth. As I wound my way to the center my thoughts were scattered. Reaching the middle, I settled on a log and continued to pray. Many things were distracting; the neighbor’s lawnmower, people spreading mulch nearby, an airplane overhead. Then I tuned in on the birds. So many birds! So many songs! They seemed to be talking to me from all different directions, bickering and beckoning me to this or that, adding more to my “to do” list. I couldn’t even appreciate their unique timbres. Then it happened. It took me a long time, but gradually I began to think of their songs as praise to God. I walked back out of the path; lulled into slow, prayerful steps. A decision I needed to make was solidified and a new thought surprised yet delighted me. I enter prayer with no expectations and I always find that God is with me, but many times I just need to change my perspective.

Children are such wonderful teachers! When I am busy and lose focus on what is truly important, I am reminded of the beauty in God’s creation by the simplicity and depth of a child. As we worked on the labyrinth project, we also invited those who wanted to paint prayers and messages of hope on rocks from a member’s creek; prayer rocks to be placed near the path of the labyrinth. A child created the lovely rock art shown above, including a message I try to carry with me each day. Whatever the season, God is here. Although trees may look dead in winter, we have faith that God will bring them new life in the spring. It is important for me to be reminded of these things at all times, not only joyful times. Even when I’m having a bad day, looking for God in all carries me through the storms.

It amazes me how many times I have chosen not to do something out of fear. Yet when I go ahead and do it, it’s one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done. Over the years I have begun to recognize this pattern and have shifted things around; challenging myself to “go for it”. Thinking in this way gives me a sense of freedom to express the real person God created me to be. How do I know this? My heart tells me so.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. . . . You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. ~Marianne Williamson