What did I eat today? Sometimes I have to think hard to remember. I used to think of food as physical nourishment alone. Now it is clear to me that it is much more. Breakfast and lunch sustain me throughout the day so I have the energy to do my work. Scheduling time daily to be with God also nourishes me spiritually; food and sustenance for the soul. For health and strength and daily food, we give you thanks, O Lord.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. Psalm 42:2a
Tonight I attended our Taizé–style worship service. At dinner before the service, we discussed how challenging it can be to sit in silence. Friends have admitted to their fear of silence. I feel as if my personality is naturally attracted to the quiet so I can only imagine the difficulty others might endure. Yet, I believe in the power of quietude so much that I would spend time with you right now to lead you in silence. I invite you to visit me so I can share with you this experience of quiescence. I admit that it is challenging for me to continue this discipline regularly. Yet, in my heart I know this is how I can best hear God’s voice guiding me.
So here goes… let’s take five minutes right now to close our eyes and try to think of nothing. Each day, a minute can be added. The importance is in doing it each day, whether or not we feel anything. No expectations. The Holy Spirit takes over. Thanks be to God!
Soggy wetness fills these days. I wake to rain and fall asleep to more rain. Rain can be soothing, but it also reminds me of times I wept and when others continue to weep. Poet Ann Weems wrote the following psalm of lament after the death of her son. Her words, filled with honesty and heartache, offer healing hope for herself and others in times of grief.
Night after night I collect my tears and send them to you, O God. Night after night I come before you tear-stained. Have mercy on me. Hear my weeping and turn your heart to me. I weep for what was and will never be again. I weep for a future that is no longer possible. I weep because I love. Like a willow on the bank of a river, I’m bent from the weight of my tears. They flood my world, and there is no stopping their force. Save me, O God, from drowning! O God, have you covered your ears to my weeping? Have you covered your eyes so you won’t see me going under? Have you forgotten me night after night? Didn’t you hear your son weeping over Jerusalem? Didn’t you count his tears when Lazarus died? Didn’t you see how deeply moved he was when Mary wept? O God, acknowledge me, for night after night I collect my tears and send them to you. I trust in you, O God, for your hand can divide the waters, or gently wipe the tears of the grieving ones. I trust in you, O God, day after day.
From Psalm 121: I lift my eyes to the hills – from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
Today I peeled ten lemons to make limoncello. Now they will steep in vodka for several weeks. I looked at the peeled lemons with sympathy; they looked so naked! Feeling a bit “Shaker-like”, I juiced all of them to use as much of the lemon as possible. I wasn’t sure yet what I would do with all of the fresh juice. Lemon curd! Actually, citrus curd. I wanted to use zest in the curd, but it was already reserved for limoncello. So I pulled out a few oranges and lime to zest into the curd. Before it completely cooled, I couldn’t wait, so I put a dollop on some yogurt. The citrus curd, made with simple ingredients, added such a bright, “zesty” flavor.
Lemons are a favorite of mine as I try to weave natural ingredients into my life. I love lemons in beverages and baked goods. Besides their ability to purify and clean, I learned that lemons contain many health benefits and their scent can reduce mental stress. Taking the time to prepare food, recognizing where it comes from, and enjoying its beauty, color and scent help me feel closer to God’s creation.
Designer Christian Dior states, “Zest is the secret of all beauty. There is no beauty that is attractive without zest.” I think I’ll replace zest with God and say, “God is the secret of all beauty. There is no beauty that is attractive without God.”
Temptations surround me as I try to live a faithful life. Ruth Duck writes a beautiful summary of Christ’s temptation in which Jesus’ rejection of each lure is shaped into a prayer. I also encounter temptations as I trek along my spiritual path.
When we are tested and wrestle alone, famished for bread when the world offers stone, nourish us, God, by your word and your way, food that sustains us by night and by day.
When in the desert we cry for relief, pleading for paths marked by certain belief, lift us to love you beyond sign and test, trusting your presence, our only true rest.
When we are tempted to barter our souls, trading the truth for the power to control, teach us to worship and praise only you, seeking your will in the work that we do.
When we have struggled and search through the night, sorting and sifting the wrong from the right, Savior, surround us with circles of care, angels of healing, of hope, and of prayer.
How can I find joy within things I don’t like very much? Sometimes I resist enjoying something because in my mind I doubt I’ll like it. It’s usually because I haven’t given it a chance. Other times I have tried something and can honestly say I don’t like it. What if I have no choice but to deal with that something I don’t like?
That’s when I turn my focus away from myself and ask, “Does this fill a need? Does this make others happy? Does it feel right in my heart?” If the answer is no, to carry it through I lift the burden and turn it over to God. If the answer is yes, I am probably the one who needs to change.
When I workout at the gym I usually do the same routine. My muscles are used to it so I don’t feel sore afterward unless I alter the pattern. When I lift weights slowly and with concentration, or if I switch things up a bit and try yoga or Pilates, my muscles are noticeably sore the next day.
In handbell rehearsals, sometimes I ask the musicians to ring sections of the piece slowly. I also do this when practicing piano and organ. This helps to solidify the correct notes and challenges me to think in a different way.
During Lent, I plan to exercise my spiritual muscles in various ways. Although physical exercise can bring soreness, it also produces strength. Although I may not see results from practicing these spiritual disciplines, I know God is strengthening me through them.
When my husband was introduced to “pour-over” coffee, his love for coffee grew tremendously. Although it takes more time to brew coffee this way, the taste has unmatched depth. There is a beauty to slowing down and savoring. It’s a gift I try to weave into my life.
Tonight in handbell rehearsal we rang through “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” It sounded better when it was not rushed. Sure, a slower pace helps us to ring the correct notes and rhythm, but it also allows us to add musicality and savor the lush harmonies. When we ring it in worship on Sunday we will “Swing Slow.”
At St. Meinrad Archabbey the monks recite the Psalms slowly; pausing after each phrase. I appreciate this because it gives me an opportunity to reflect on the words more carefully; allowing me to hear something new.
The Latin word for Lent, lente, means slowly. If I slow down a bit, I gift myself time to pay attention to the beauty that surrounds me. These are the times I most often hear God’s voice.
Today shares a sacred and secular feast day: Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day. Cinderella found love and new life in the end, but not before having to sit in the ashes for awhile. Ronald Rolheiser suggests, “The moral of the story (Cinderella) is clear: before you get to be beautiful, before you get to marry the prince or princess, before you get to go to the great feast, you must first spend some lonely time in the ashes, humbled, smudged, tending to duty, unglamorous, waiting. Lent is that season, a time to sit in the ashes.”
That’s what I plan to do this season. Beginning now.
The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. ~Isaiah 58:11
Well, they weren’t pancakes, but I suppose French toast was close enough. Eggs, butter, sugar, and milk were at one time prohibited during Lent, so Pancake Day, the feast day also called Shrove Tuesday, Carnival, or Mardi Gras, was a way of using up the leftover ingredients. The French toast I made, or “pancakes,” were ultra-rich, made from three-day old butter-laden brioche. The feast before the fast!
God of all seasons, God of both feasting and fasting, you guide us through the letting goes and the new beginnings of our lives. We confess to you our weakness in doing this fully, and we ask that we can let go of all impediments to our journey toward “life and life more abundantly” so that we can begin anew in grace. May we never lose hope in the eternal spring that you have promised to all of creation in a “new heaven and a new earth.” Amen
~Richard Rohr
Bread for the Journey 