Steve

Today’s Word: Dry

Steve · August 22, 2013 · Leave a Comment

Dry Mississippi riverbed near Pevely, Missouri. SJG photo.

No matter how often we turn to God in prayer and no matter how rich and fruitful our prayer and worship experiences have been, sometimes we just come up dry. Sometimes God seems nowhere to be found. Sometimes we don’t feel like being found. We’re in the desert with not a drop of spiritual refreshment in sight. Mother Teresa of Calcutta shocked the world when she wrote in her memoir that she experienced long periods — years even — of spiritual dryness. And so we wonder, if that happened to such a holy and charitable soul, what chance have we got?

But that’s not how God works. Spiritual dryness is not a sign of weakness, nor is it an indication that our faith is lacking. Rather, it’s part of the journey of faith, part of the give and take and push and pull of our relationship with God, and that relationship is not an easy thing. On good days, we feel God’s presence in our silent prayer or in our private or communal devotion or worship, and we are as sure of God as we are of our own relationships with loved ones and friends. But on other days we’re not so sure. We second-guess ourselves and our lives of faith. We’re parched, thirsty for life-giving water and anxious to find a reliable source. The good news is that God is not looking for perfection. God is looking for open hearts willing to receive him. God is looking for us, waiting for us to turn toward him — even a sideways glance — and accept his invitation to friendship and belief. And the only response we can muster is a quiet and sincere, “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will.” And that is enough.

Ask yourself in silence: Is my prayer dry or fruitful right now? What kind of effort do I give to my spiritual life? Am I willing to respond to God and strengthen our relationship?

Today’s Word: Rise

Steve · August 21, 2013 · 10 Comments

Last weekend while on retreat, I took a walk along the railroad tracks at the bottom of the hill near the river. While walking, I noticed dozens of railroad tie spikes just lying loose between the rails, and I wondered why they were there and where they all came from. Then I noticed that some of the spikes that were still “in place” were in varying stages of rising, so to speak, of being loosed, no doubt by years of pressure and vibration from passing trains. In short, they seemed to be freeing themselves. Free at last.

And I wondered: Can we, too, free ourselves from the holes and the tight places into which we have been driven? Can we be liberated from those people and circumstances that have perhaps left deep and painful marks on our lives and on our psyches? Can we repair the damage of past hurt?

We can, but we can’t do it alone. Like a railroad tie spike, we work our way free from our damaged pasts by responding to the vibrations and movements of an outside force. When we open ourselves to the movement of God in our lives and let go of aching parts of our past, we rise above the pressure and the rawness of these wounds and allow ourselves to rise, slowly and surely, to freedom and new life. We rise because God moves us toward freedom. We rise because we allow God to work on us, to inch us ever forward in faith and trust. Free at last.

Ask yourself in silence: From what in my past do I need to be freed? What piece of my history needs healing? What if I were to respond to the movement of God in my life? What would change?

Today’s Word: Trace

Steve · August 20, 2013 · 4 Comments

Walking along the dried Mississippi River bed, I came across the deer tracks pictured to the right. Looking behind me, I saw that I was leaving some tracks of my own in the wet mud. And in a moment of insight, I realized that we all leave a mark wherever we go, some sign that we are here, good or bad, if even for a brief moment. The question is: what kind of trace do we leave behind?

We all leave lots of surface impressions on the world. Often, as the saying goes, we only get one chance to make a best first impression. In spiritual terms, someone once said that we may be the only Christ the people around us meet on any given day, so we need to be constantly aware that we have that power and responsibility. We most effectively model Christ and divine love to the world not with Christian t-shirts and noisy preaching but rather by making a quiet impression of love on those around us. For it’s most often the gentle touch and the caring word that leaves the deepest mark.

Ask yourself in silence: What do I leave behind? Can the people around me tell that God dwells in me?

Today’s Word: Solitude

Steve · August 19, 2013 · 4 Comments

View of the river from Vision of Peace Hermitages. SJG photo.

“In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went off to a lonely place and prayed there.” Mark 1:35

As I mentioned late last week, this past weekend I spent at a wonderful, quiet and secluded place just south of St. Louis in Pevely, Missouri, on grounds that overlook the Mississippi River. Called the “Vision of Peace Hermitages,” the six pristine acres and nine small dwellings provide a simple oasis from the world for anyone looking to get away and be alone with God. We all need that time once in a while to unplug (physically and metaphorically) and recharge our spiritual batteries. I came back refreshed and quieted and filled with a peace and contentment that I know comes from God alone. Just before I left on Sunday morning, I wrote in my journal:

In this solitude, this holy quiet
I hear your word in the wind blowing through the trees
In the caw caw caw of the crows (always three times, it seemed)
In the tap tap of a distant woodpecker
In the slap of water on rock at the bottom of the hill.

Morning on the river. SJG photo

You speak in my ear
As if standing beside me
As if lingering in my shadow
As if I mattered somehow to you
And I hear words you likely speak to me
All day, everyday
But I cannot hear over the drone of me
Over the busy-ness and the scuttling of hurrying feet.

But here I slow down.
I become quiet.
I listen.
I remind myself
To pray more than “do.”
To reach out more than hold back.
To listen more than speak.

Turn to me.
Say that again.
I am ready to hear.

Ask yourself in silence: Do I value solitude? Can I tell the difference between loneliness and solitude? Can I easily and peacefully be alone, knowing that I’m not alone at all?

Today’s Word: Fruit

Steve · August 15, 2013 · 5 Comments

Mahatma Gandhi once said, “I love your Christ but not your Christians, because they are so unlike Christ.” All too often, this is so true. I’m not calling out any individuals here, and I’m not pointing fingers. We’ve all fallen short at one time or another. We’ve all failed to show those around us just what it is that this Christ means to us. Maybe we got the words right — or think we have them right — but we fall short on the way we live out the words. We’re missing the fruit of our faith.

If the Christ we see and learn from in the gospels is to be seen and known through us, it will be through the fruits of the spirit working in us. These fruits are not correctness, judgment, self-righteousness, or orthodoxy. These fruits are not liberalism or conservatism, and they are not the property of any one religion, creed or nation. The fruits of God’s spirit are found in the small deeds and actions that govern our lives and in the ways we love our families, our friends and even our enemies. They are: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22). These fruits speak for themselves, and no one will ever fail to find Christ in us if we nurture these fruits in our lives while pruning back the vices and sins that separate us from God and from those around us.

Ask yourself in silence: When have others failed to see the fruits of the spirit in my life? Do I nurture these fruits or have I let them wither on the vine?

I’ll be taking a break for a few days as I head out tomorrow for a few days of solitude at the Vision of Peace Hermitages in Pevely, Missouri, nestled on the banks of the Mississippi River just south of St. Louis. I’ll be back on Monday with some new words and plenty of new photographs.