The Next Leg

I am leaving Monday the 2nd for the Abbey of the Genesee. I look forward to the days in that Holy Environment. I won't have access to the internet...I will be reading, reflecting, praying and practicing the "order" of monastic life. My soul craves this time, which will be different from the time I have had at the various "hermitages" where I have been studying and writing.

There is something interesting and ironic going on.

One of my most precious realms is the world of silence...total silence. It is where I experience the deepest connection to God's love and truth. To my total consternation, I have developed tinnitus...ringing in the ears!

Well...I have stepped forward into a vast and varied regimen of ways to deal with this....and I suppose it remains to be seen whether this is temporary or if I am being given an opportunity to live with this (goodness knows, many people do!)

I can't help but recall a story told to me by my own spiritual director at the beginning of this sabbatical time. We were talking about the way we set lofty expectations upon our "holy" plans. She recounted the story of one sister who was given an opportunity to travel overseas to the country of her patron saint. She yearned to walk in the footsteps and linger in the hallways where her "saint" had lived and moved hundreds of years ago. But as soon as she arrived at her destination, she became so ill that all she could do for the entire week was stay in her room. No travel...no encounters outside her four walls. She returned to America and her ordinary life. I am told that she was deeply disappointed, of course, but reported that she had met God's comfort and peace in her room...and accepted that the pilgrimage was, quite simply, what it was.

The story was shared to lift up the reality that "perfection" will elude us...it is just the way things are. However, God's grace, lavished upon us can't be obstructed by physical illness or practical difficulties. Remembering to breathe, to let go of rigid expectations about how things need to be (or how we hope for them to be) allows us to receive precisely what God is bestowing right now that is in our best interests.

As for me...I know with my whole heart that God's still voice can meet my heart's desire. No malady chronic or acute, gigantic or miniscule, can have ultimate power over God's Love reaching out to each one of us!

Sometimes our disappointments can loom in our heads and hearts. They can distract us from what God is providing in their midst, especially when what is threatened is some aspect of life we have held dear and precious.

Paul's counsel to the Corinthians speaks to me:

Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12:8-10

Touch Point

I'm between hermitages. My travels have been of a smaller geographical scope for a variety of reasons that are unimportant. Still, two wonderful atmospheres (one in the forest and the other on the lake) have been abodes of silence and solitude.

Writing is going well...now I will be away from the project for three days to attend a seminar. It will be a totally different climate -- with more people than I've been around in months. There will be nonstop conversation and mental "input". I may take notes or jot down new ideas for this or that part of my writing...but I won't have large blocks of time for extensive "output".

I've been attentive to the wisdom of occasionally lying fallow during this sabbatical. It is an important part of creativity's cycle.

Farmers allow fields to be fallow to increase the productivity of the field. The plowing or tilling of land, without sowing it for a season; as, summer fallow, properly conducted, has ever been found a sure method of destroying weeds.
To plow, harrow, and break up, as land, without seeding, for the purpose of destroying weeds and insects, and rendering it mellow; as, it is profitable to fallow cold, strong, clayey land. (from Brainy Quotes.com)



Although most of my days have been dedicated to extensive writing, I have incorporated into the rhythm regular fallow cycles. For a block of hours or a full day, if necessary, I set the writing projects aside. I notice that there may be obstructions developing even when I am "on a roll" of creativity. Just like in a vast field, there are "weeds" germinating...clods forming...even while the crop is growing.

I begin the fallow time by praying ... stirring my desire for God's companionship,and for the inspiration and counsel of the Holy Spirit. Reading scripture prayerfully but without mental rigor seems to break up any clods of ego rigidity. The roots of the weeds of fear or doubt are exposed during this time...and the weeds begin to wither. Resting in the Lord, my objective is to practice receptivity...listening...moving into mellowness and pliability.

Lying fallow, resting from the task of production, is actually profoundly "productive".

Speedbumps, rumble strips and hairpin turns

How do you feel about speed bumps? You know... the bumps placed in pathways to help (force) us to slow down. They can be annoying, especially when the coast is clear and we actually could accelerate. Another traffic control device is a rumble strip --grooves placed on margins of highways to alert the drivers of careless (dangerous) steering. Or the strips may cut across a lane to let dreamers and dashers know that they need to slow down. I have actually benefitted from both types of rumble strips when I have been slightly distracted from my driving.

I think of the blessing and curse of these highway regulators now as I encounter a significant rumble strip on this sabbatical journey. I was scheduled to leave this weekend for the first of several extended stays at a hermitage. This particular hermitage is in a remote region about 500 miles from my home. The cabin has heat, electricity and a fireplace -- but no running water. I have prepared my survival gear, packed my resources and tools for writing, and chosen the food that I will take. I'm ready to go and I am energized and, yes, excited about the expedition.

However.... The person who owns the cabin and was to travel with me and get me "established" so I could be there for a week or two is now unable to go -- at least for now. That means that all of my planning and my fairly specific and significant expectations need to be on hold...at least for a while. Disappointed? Absolutely!

I move to a better attitude when I recall the fundamental purpose of this time of seclusion. It is to be removed from the distractions (even the pleasant ones) of life in my familiar surroundings. I have consented to God's disclosure of things that blurr my vision and dull my awareness of what God offers and where God is guiding. I intend to write about ministry maintenance...sustaining the life of whatever one is called to do...and to be. Perhaps this shift of place and space is a part of that process. Perhaps it is actually a critical aspect of "my" preparation.

Sometimes my expectations and the fulfillment of plans that I make may distort my receptivity to God's presentation. There is actually something theologically sound in that statement. In the pain of disappointment or unmet expectations I may discover wide open doors for the flow (perhaps even the RUSH) of God's grace.

I'm still leaving my familiar surroundings.... I still will be in seclusion... I have had to slow down on the course I had anticipated and literally turn in a different direction -- like a hair pin turn. I trust that there are many blessings in these events which have "regulated" my pace and my path.

We shall see where this is leading!

Wandering Worshipper

One of the many blessings of sabbatical time is the privilege and blessing of worshipping with communities other than my home church. I attended a meditative service at Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd last night -- for anybody who thinks that it is imperative to have instruments and voices active at all times, it might be daunting.

However...

There is a particular space we enter when the responses to scripture readings, the sermon, and the prayers are experienced in silence. It is a space that may be less accessible when we are diverted by the sound of human energy -- vocal or musical.

The "setting of the table" (ie, preparing the communion table) was enfolded in silence. The congregation was encouraged to be in silent contemplation of the movements of the presiding and assisting minister. Watching their reverent preparations, I quietly prepared my soul for the mysterious, mystical meal that was about to unfold. Indeed, "All Mortal Flesh" was invited to "be silent". In the stillness the whispering invitation -- the divine "come, the table is set" -- was spoken. And perhaps we all were more capable of hearing it. Perhaps our hearts and souls and minds were open to a different way of receiving again the fullness offered in Christ.

I'm not saying that such spiritual openness is necessarily obstructed by more active, audible worship.

However...in the silence I experienced the beauty and power of corporate worship in an intimate, intense way.

There is an emptiness in silence that encourages "me" (, my awareness of this or that page...or musical note...) to dissolve. Less aware of my "self", I am keenly aware of the full community of equally silent people -- all attending to what is going on that always goes on beneath spoken words or musical instruments and voices.

It was a silent worship that spoke profoundly to my soul. I give thanks...I give praise...amen.