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Today’s Word: Restoration

Steve · November 11, 2013 · 5 Comments

coxscomb — Cockscomb Butte, Sedona. SJG photo

Centennial Trail in Sedona, Arizona is an easy, short, paved hike, only two-thirds of a mile out and back. More of a stroll than a hike, really. The view is pretty good of the nearby red rock formations, including the imposing Cockscomb Butte. The sunsets are great because it’s a flat, open area and you can see both the sunset itself and the golden light that plays on the mountains to the horizon’s east. So while it’s not much of a trail, the views can be rewarding. But the most interesting thing about Centennial Trail, for me, is the knowledge that it was built on the site of Sedona’s long-time city dump. You can still see the sun glancing off small bits of glass and metal that are the remains of decades of debris. The city restored the area for Sedona’s Centennial celebration in 2002, thus the name.

stones — On Centennial Trail, Sedona. SJG photo

The trail is a reminder that beauty — both the physical beauty of the world and our own inner beauty that flows from the presence of the Spirit of God — can very often lie under our histories of neglect and even abuse. We can walk the paths of our lives and feel like the remains of someone else’s life, not realizing that we are actually choice spots of radiant beauty, vantage points from which others might someday be able to pass en route to glimpsing the glory of God just beyond us. We await only the nurturing touch and the gentle weeding of the gardener’s hand. Restored…we can be restored.

Ask yourself in silence: What is the debris of my life? From what do I need to be restored?

Note: I wrote a similar piece a few years ago about another former city dump in Ft. Bragg, California.

Today’s Word: Night

Steve · September 12, 2013 · 2 Comments

Last night I spent the night as the only person in the Ignatius House Jesuit Retreat Center outside of Atlanta. I arrived in the evening so I would be ready to present a retreat today to a group of (what turned out to be) inspiring, incredibly open and courageous cancer patients, along with their supportive family and friends and some dedicated and equally inspiring caregivers and pastoral care workers. More on that tomorrow. But last night I found myself all alone in the big ole rambling place. “Sounds creepy,” said Sue and our daughter Jenny on the phone. But it was just the kind of silence and darkness that I needed. Night — especially a dark and quiet night out in the country — often gives focus to my prayer and pulls my thoughts to God more intensely because the dark and the silence block out the noise and light of the world. So I was not feeling creepy but, rather, deeply.

I wandered the halls a little. I sat in the small chapel for an hour and a half reading, praying and working on the next day’s talks. I sat out on a balcony and watched a spider spin a web. Midnight was approaching and I could have stayed up much later; would have if not for the knowledge that I had to get up early to begin my day. I reluctantly turned in, but not before offering a prayer to the Creator of the night — the artist of darkness and the composer of exquisite silence.

A Night Prayer

Under the veil of dark
I turn to you, Lord
To illuminate the night
To lighten my mind
To enlighten my soul
To recall my day
To find your movements
To begin to begin again
To anticipate tomorrow
To live in hope.

Ask yourself in silence: Do you find God in the darkness and quiet of the night? Do you take the time to review your day in the evening and prepare for the next day?

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?

Guest blogger: Kathleen Matson on Heavenly Light

Steve · May 26, 2013 · 10 Comments

Kathleen Matson of the Boston area was one of several readers who responded to my plea two weeks ago for guest bloggers willing to write 500 words or less about this beautiful piece of the Psalms:

“When I see your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars that you set in place—Who are we that you are mindful of us, and a son of man that you care for us? Yet you have made us little less than a god, crowned us with glory and honor.” Psalm 8:4-6

Kathleen writes:

sunset — Sunset with friends. SJG photo.

The little ones were finally down for the night after our busy day at The Cape. We were enjoying a much needed weekend respite with dear, old friends. While our husbands watched a Red Sox game, my friend and I took a walk down to the beach to breathe in the sea air and unwind.

Onlookers and faces in the crowd

Steve · November 23, 2011 · 8 Comments

They are the faces in the crowd, some standing on tiptoe to get a glimpse of this condemned prophet or rabble-rouser, take your pick, as he stands mute before the authorities, as he flinches but never complains against the searing heat of the lashes, as he bears the weight of the beam across his shoulder blades and feels the bite of the sheer mass and the splintered wood.