vocation

Today’s Word: Sustained

Steve · September 4, 2013 · 1 Comment

The egret goes down to the shore everyday and waits for the fish to come in. Its beady eyes pierce the sand and the foam and — quick as lightning — it plucks a minnow from the froth. Moving away from the waves so as to lessen the chance of escape should the prey be dropped, the bird manipulates and maneuvers the tiny fish in its beak until it finally tips its head back and swallows it whole. Then the egret goes back and does it all again. And again and again, answering some inner egret call, taught by a preceding generation of like-minded egrets. It does what egrets do and thus is sustained.

We, too, seek a shore that sustains. We search for an edge, a cusp that connects our world to the sustaining sea. Day after day we hunt and peck, hoping our efforts are not in vain, transfixed on an idea that there must be something meaty swimming in the froth of our lives, something that will get us through our days, our months and years. What we grasp there we must also judge. Is it what we need? Is it real and healthy or a piece of plastic that can harm? Both good and bad float in the foam. We need quick, discerning vision and even quicker movements that allow us to reach out and grab what the sustainer offers — something fresh, alive, whole and holy. Just what we need and nothing less or more.

Ask yourself in silence: What sustains me? What gets me out of bed and pulls me through my day?

Today’s Word: Vocation

Steve · August 24, 2013 · 4 Comments

Historic schoolhouse, West Branch, Iowa. SJG photo.

“Vocation is where our greatest passion meets the world’s greatest need.”
– Frederick Buechner

The word vocation has, unfortunately, become all too familiar. We use it synonymously to mean, “what we do for a living.” And while that might be true, it only tells part of the story. The word comes from the Latin meaning “call” or “summons.” Thus, our vocations are not just what we do but what we are summoned to do. Summoned by whom? That’s up to the listener.

As people of faith, we hold to the idea that this call comes from God and reflects God’s desire and will for our lives. It is one of our great responsibilities to prayerfully discern our call and then respond. Importantly, it’s good to remember that we are perhaps called to different things at different times over the course of our lives. What we are called to in later life may be quite different from the call we responded to (or didn’t respond to…) when we were much younger.

Like any call, the answer to our vocation question can be found by listening. We need to listen to ourselves and trust our hearts. We need to listen to those who know us best. And we need to listen to that still, small voice that whispers (and hardly ever shouts): “Follow me, I’ve got something for you to do.”

Ask yourself in silence: To what are you sensing a call? Has there been a call you ignored because it seemed inconvenient? Do you have a passion that meets a great need in the world?

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?

Book Review: Margaret Silf’s “Just Call Me López”

Steve · August 11, 2012 · 2 Comments

There’s an old chestnut of an icebreaker/conversation starter that goes something like this: What person, living or deceased, would you most like to spend some time with? (Go ahead, discuss…)

Margaret Silf’s “Just Call Me López: Getting to the Heart of Ignatius Loyola (Loyola Press, 144 pages) takes that question on a spiritual journey and allows us to come along for the ride, as long as we’re willing to suspend our disbelief in the impossibility of the premise of the book – the contemporary narrator’s months-long interactions with the 16^th century saint and founder of the Jesuits. Along the way, what we get is far more than a creative approach to Ignatius’ biography (his middle name was López) or an introduction to his famed spiritual exercises, although we get plenty of both. For those who know nothing or little of Ignatius’ life and approach to spirituality, this slim volume will serve as a fine introduction.

In this unlikely tale of a 16^th-century soldier-turned-saint and 21^st-century woman, we see what happens when one person opens herself to a real-life, real-time experience of the communion of saints. The two are as different as pen-and-ink and laptops are as writing instruments, but their conversations show us that life’s really important questions don’t change with the times and technology. And perhaps the most essential question we can ask as spiritual beings (what is God’s will and plan for my life?) is the question to which most of us continue to seek an answer. That introspective and prayerful approach to life is what lies at the heart of Ignatian spirituality.

Watching for Movement

Steve · July 29, 2012 · 4 Comments

daisy — Black-eyed Susans at Long Lake Park, by Steve Givens

Walking with Sue yesterday morning at Long Lake Regional Park in New Brighton, Minnesota, I was aware, as I always try to be when I walk in nature, of not only the beauty of everything around me but of its movement. For where there is movement there is energy and life.

Even the minutest movements illustrate the animation of life. With my camera I stop to capture a purple wildflower, only to notice the ever-so-slight movement of a pale yellow insect I would have otherwise missed, slowly and methodically working its way around the flower, doing what it is made to do with flowers. Energy and life.

Walking along a path, a flurry of brown and black motion catches my eye and I shift my attention and focus. It’s the rump of a chipmunk, hard at work digging in the soft soil, oblivious to us until we are nearly on top of it. Energy and life.