Becoming outpost of light.

It was the early 90s. I thought I was doing all the right things––church, prayer, Bible study, small group, service––but I wasn't getting the right results. I cannot say what results I was looking for, but I knew I was unable to "live the promises" of peace, joy, and fullness of life Jesus spoke of (John 10:10). I was a pile of dry bones desperate for a fresh breath. I wanted that "Something More" Catherine Marshall speaks of in her book by the same name. I didn't know what that 'something more' was, much less the language to describe it or the slightest idea how to get it. A pastor friend encouraged me to pray more, be in the Word more, and serve more. Clearly, that wasn't working.

If you’ve been through School of the Spirit, The Sacred Invitation, or any other retreat at Starrette Farm, you likely have a story to tell. A story of a light bulb that went on and something became more clear. A story of trust, of friendship, of love, of vulnerability and acceptance. A story of a deeper awareness of the Spirit’s presence. A story of transformation.

If you’re like so many of us who have been blessed in this sacred space, that story often began with one small thing. Maybe it was a reading, a poem, or a song. Maybe it was a Holy Spirit question asked in a trust circle. Maybe it was a conversation with a favorite tree or even just a gentle breeze in the woods that made you feel renewed and alive in a way that you had not felt in so long.

For me, it was the poem, “Fire” by Judy Sorum Brown, that opened my heart to the despearte need for Sacred Space in my life and in our world. Below I humbly offer my own reflections on that “one small thing.” …

It’s not easy to remember to practice the welcoming prayer in the challenging moments when we need it the most.  Perhaps it would be easier to breathe.  What if you could train your brain to associate those alarms and triggers with a relaxing six second breath instead of the high stress that comes from trying to protect whichever energy center feels threatened. 

Six seconds doesn’t seem long, but it’s long enough to remind us of the welcoming prayer….

Awakening to blindness
Awakening to the stench of mildew and decay
Awakening to the hardness of the cold stone beneath my lifeless weight
Awakening to the icy chill sending shivers through every nerve in my body
Awakening…

Awakening to the voice of Jesus…

Spiritual Director (SD): Please come in. Thank you for reaching out.

Seeker: Thank you for seeing me. I don’t really know if I am the right person to come to Spiritual Direction since I am not a believer. The ritual in the church and its symbolic language doesn’t carry meaning for me, but I am intrigued by good things I see being done by people of faith working for social justice and fairness.

SD: You are at the right place. Spiritual Direction is not for those who have everything all tidied up and their beliefs in nice neat boxes. Just the opposite…

Ever heard of the game Two Truths and a Lie? It’s an icebreaker game to get to know others where you share three things about yourself, and others have to guess which are the two truths and which one is the lie.

This quarter I invite you to play this game with your inner critic — that voice trying to be helpful but doesn’t really see beyond its own fear and therefore only raises your stress level, leaving you exhausted. Yeah, that one. It’s talking in the background and often highjacking our best intentions.

It’s taken a little bit to figure out what to share and say at the start of this new year. If your “now” is anything like mine, it is full. Full of the good and the challenging; it is a full gamut of emotion…full in so many ways. When life gets like this for me, I find it is time to simplify… to pan out and attempt to take in the forest rather than all the trees for a moment. This reflection is intended to be a simple posture of hello to 2021, taking a look at how I want to embrace it even as it begins to embrace me. I hope you find your own fitting posture through and beyond these words.

As frightened as most of us were as children about things that go bump in the night, I have found that as an adult, I can shudder even more when things bump in my soul. I fear that which seems dark to my own understanding at the moment. But, there is holiness to darkness.

One thing living through a pandemic is teaching me is to be flexible and gracious with myself. Last summer, my spouse and I moved into a new home, and even wonderful changes upend a lot of routines—my Rule of Life included. I had finally settled into a great routine, and “POW!” the pandemic arrived along with its stay-at-home orders.

Oh, sweet heavenly hosts of heaven, what uncertainty is before us! That’s a pretty way of saying, “Oh crap! What now?! I’m scared!” We are confronted again with the reality that we do not know, or completely control, what the future holds. This truth is scary when we come face-to-face with it like we are having to do right now. And yet, we know we are in God’s heart and God’s hands, every moment, every day. It is Christ, our strength and redeemer, who holds us and the future.