Bread for the Journey

J. S. Bach spent his life in musical service to God. He wrote his music as an act of worship, and his faith and music are unified. Often he wrote on his manuscripts “Soli Deo Gloria”, to God alone be the glory. There is always a sense of direction in Bach’s music. Even when it wanders, there is always a place of return and resolution. Home.

When I practice centering prayer I choose a word that helps me focus on God. When my mind wanders I gently return to this word to refocus. When my life wanders in various directions I know God is always there to receive my return with love, compassion and welcoming arms.

For most of my life I have struggled to find God, to know God, to love God. I have tried hard to follow the guidelines of the spiritual life—pray always, work for others, read the Scriptures—and to avoid the many temptations to dissipate myself. I have failed many times but always tried again, even when I was close to despair.

Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love me. The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?” The question is not “How am I to know God?” but “How am I to let myself be known by God?” And, finally, the question is not “How am I to love God?” but “How am I to let myself be loved by God?” God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home. ~Henri Nouwen

Hiking to the summit of Mount Washington in New Hampshire is a memory I will always remember. I’ve trekked it three times over the years; each an experience of wonder. The temperature difference from trailhead to summit is unbelievable. Trees change from tall evergreens to sturdy, low gnarled bushes displaying their strength against the harsh winds. And above the tree line hardly any vegetation grows due to extreme weather conditions.

One time a cloud accompanied us all the way to within one mile of the summit. My husband and I had limited view of the path ahead until suddenly a dark looming object vaguely appeared before us. The fog immediately lifted and to our surprise a building was unveiled directly in front of us. By the time we reached the summit the sky was clear and the view spectacular. Praise God’s glorious splendor and majesty!

Some of my fondest memories are the cairns. These piles of rocks periodically appear along the path guiding our way to the top. They are symbols of hope for those who may be lost, and I find them to be comforting and hospitable.

I built two cairns in my gardens at home. They remind me of hikes up various mountains over the years. But mostly they center my life on God. Along a journey that can be quite rocky and uncertain, cairns remind me of God’s loving presence, guidance and hope.

Today was one of those days where I went from one schedule to the next with hardly any time to breathe. At the end, all I wanted to do was … nothing. These days happen occasionally and I prepare for them, but they are exhausting.

Before transitioning into a new ministry position in 2010, I helped organize a week of activities, meals, and worship for a group of visitors from Germany. It was a wonderful week of sharing, but after, I was spent. Taking a few days off to recover, one thing I chose to do was walk a labyrinth.

Anxious in this time of transition, I was seeking direction about what to do next to prepare for my new role. God clearly spoke, “Just rest in me.” Not expecting to hear this, I felt relief that it was okay to rest. Learning to actively rest and listen is a valuable lesson. I draw new strength from times of solitude, whether by choice or necessity. If I let go of my thoughts, I allow the Spirit to replenish my soul, empowering me to live more fully and vibrantly.

There are in our existence spots of time,

Which with distinct pre-eminence retain

A renovating virtue, whence, …our minds

Are nourished and invisibly repaired. ~William Wordsworth

Listening to God’s voice saying, “Use your music,” and then acting on it helped pull me out of the depths. Debussy’s “The Sunken Cathedral” was included on a program I felt called to create in 2007. At that time my life seemed to mirror the cathedral surrounded by thick fog. The depth of this piece naturally pairs with Monet’s evocative painting of the Rouen Cathedral.

O God, you are my God, I seek you, My soul thirsts for you; My flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. ~Psalm 63:1-2

Debussy, referred to as a “painter of dreams”, musically paints the opening with the description, “Profoundly calm; in a fog.” Once the fog lifts the music seems to paint a picture of the power, glory and fullness of God. The conclusion of the piece echoes previous phrases with the muted sound of cathedral bells.

Each piece of music was included on the program for a reason. I didn’t see it at the time, but the fog was slowly lifting. Preparation required me to work hard, “strengthening my inner being”, and each note I practiced brought me closer to the fullness of God.

I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. ~Ephesians 3:14-21

I have said yes to many things and have increasingly given myself permission to say no. Something I added into my life was this daily journal which I share with the world. If you know me, you know I am pretty quiet and don’t talk much. But I do listen. It wasn’t until twelve years ago that I truly learned to listen to God. Along the way I was called to share my story as a daily discipline; the reason I started this blog. But this is not a comfortable thing for me to do. It requires weaving time into my day for reflection, writing and opening up to people I don’t know. Some ask, “How do you come up with so many different writings every day?” I have so many stories to share I didn’t know where to start, but they keep flowing. I said yes to God’s call and a new path on the journey began.

These daily writings may not continue forever, but for now they are a prayer discipline I have personally committed to as part of my new vocation as a Benedictine oblate. Reflecting on my spiritual transformation has helped me to discern where God is leading me. To this way of life I respond with a resounding “yes”!

The temperature slowly crept above freezing today and our area’s deep freeze is thawing. Although I love snow, there is something comforting about warmth that cold cannot provide. The melting ice and snow reminds me of my “old self” that slowly melts away as I draw closer to the warmth of Jesus.

When ice melts it doesn’t disappear, it just changes form into liquid and gas. Much of this transformation goes unnoticed, just as God’s action in my life is hardly visible. It’s easier to see these changes when reflecting on the past. Noticing God at work in my life is energizing and gives me strength to transform into a new creation, my true self. It’s not easy; we need each other.

A Tapestry of Uncommon Prayer: A Weaving of Scripture, Art and Music, was created and presented in 2007. It is the result of ruminating on the words God spoke to me: “Find your voice” and “Use your music.” Practicing the piano again after many years of distance from it, I discovered that it was no longer just learning the notes. My music and faith had become interwoven, and practicing had become prayer. As I passionately paired music with scripture and art, an inner excitement grew that I had not experienced before. God was pulling me out of the mire, and I was beginning to move away from my false self into who I felt God created me to be.

There is a certain innocence about beginning, with its excitement and promise of something new. But this will emerge only through undertaking some voyage into the unknown. And no one can foretell what the unknown might yield. There are journeys we have begun that have brought us great inner riches and refinement; but we had to travel through dark valleys of difficulty and suffering. Had we known at the beginning what the journey would demand of us, we might never have set out. Yet the rewards and gifts become vital to who we are. Through the innocence of beginning we are often seduced into growth. Sometimes the greatest challenge is to actually begin; there is something deep in us that conspires with what wants to remain within safe boundaries and stay the same. ~John O’ Donohue

What I have learned so far along my journey is the importance of allowing God’s voice to speak through me. Only then may I live with true joy.

I am not a writer, so it’s funny to me that I feel drawn to write each day. I was not a reader of books, so I can’t explain how I became interested in reading again. Books on spirituality spoke to me and I couldn’t get enough. The first books that attracted me are New Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton and When the Heart Waits by Sue Monk Kidd. The list grew and grew after that.

I practice a daily discipline called lectio divina, or divine reading. When reading scripture or a sacred text, I listen attentively to God’s voice through the words. The word or phrase that speaks to me becomes my meditation for the day. When I open my heart and feel the Spirit breathing love into the words I read, I am empowered to reflect Jesus’ love into the world.

Today I heard a moving song on the radio which I sang in college with the Wooster Chorus, “There is a Balm in Gilead”. I heard it sung a few years later when, after I graduated, our church hosted them on tour. A member attending the concert shared the news that her son, a Navy pilot, had just died in Desert Storm. The song was dedicated in his honor. It was a very emotional moment.

When I feel wounded, I am left with a crack in my soul. If I allow others to help me heal, they are Jesus’ light shining through that crack. May I also be that light of healing and hope for others.

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole; There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged, and think my work’s in vain, But then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.

Our daughter knit me this beautiful piece of art for Christmas. I love the variances of color and texture and appreciate the time she spent working on it when so much occupies her mind. But I especially love the devotion she put into each stitch. The word knitting is derived from “knot.” When muscles are in knots, it helps to work out the tightness and relieve the tension.  When minds are anxious, the act of doing something repetitive and mindless, such as knitting rows and rows of interconnected loops, can help release the knots.

The more I practice being mindful and seeing God in all, the more I marvel at creation, including my own body. Before I even knew I was pregnant with our first child, my body knew. I was on a flight home ready to order my usual beverage, but to my surprise, I ordered a V8; something I never, ever, drank, so it baffled me. But once I knew of the mystery being woven in the depths of my womb, our daughter, I praised God.

For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  from Psalm 139