A Prayer of Acceptance

We all cherish the directness and honesty of children. But while we chuckle at how unhibited they act we know that the day will come when life will not be so simple for them.

In our spiritual life, we too must "grow up" into a reality that the spiritual life is not so simple. We can't just "pay our dues" and expect all will be fine. Bernard Bro puts it this way: perhaps the best definition [of an adolescent] is that of someone who has not yet experienced her limitations, and therefore has not had to accept them.

Bro points out that much of our prayer, the earnest and heartfelt portion, usually springs forth when we realize our limitations, our woundedness, our needs. When we do, we have the opportunity to accept them in faith, or to become angry that life isn't fair. Our acceptance, our "growing up" leads us to that authentic self, where we no longer pretend to things that are not so.

Bro goes on to say Prayer brings us back to what is most authentic in our quest for happiness...prayer makes us free...prayer...must teach us every day of our need for God.

If you and I would grow up spiritually, we need to realize that prayer is more than asking. It is accepting. It is telling God that we are okay in feeling needy, in being wounded, in having wants in life. Prayer from a child grown into an adult says to God, "Yes, this is a relationship where I can trust that no matter what happens to me, I can reach out my hand and find you are there." Prayer is realizing that it is our very needs that keep us close to God.

For if we were all sufficient, who of us would take the time to pray?

Love in Shadow

Psalm 63 reminds us to Rest in God alone. It continues He only is my rock and salvation, my stronghold: I shall not be distrubed at all.

Psalm 63 is reminding us that only one can give us unconditional love, God. All else will love us in a fallible but tangible way. We need to remember this. No matter how deeply we may love someone or they may love us, be it our soul-mate or a kindred spirit, if they are human their love will not always satisfy. Only God can love us perfectly.

Human love must be allowed human frailties. Human love can only go so far. It is based on God's love, but cannot totally imitate it. So the best of human love is the best of God's love in a shadow. We live with its crooked ways and its imperfect fulfillment. But we know, in God alone is my trust, for he is my rock...my refuge...pour out your hearts before him.

Discernment of Roles

Painting by Sr.Mary Grace Thul, OP

How often in life we hesitate because we are afraid of taking a chance? I'm not referring to lottery tickets or horse races. I'm referring to stepping out and daring to do something out of character. Something that speaks to our heart and requires a response, one we fear to give.

Part of our hesitation comes from our lack of perspective. We think of life as all about me. But life is bigger than me. The important part of my life is the role I play, the role I am called to.

But who understands that role right off? How many of us have chosen our role only to discover we've not perhaps chosen wisely? What will make us take the next step?

I often refer to life as a journey because journeys are spend in moving, in contrast to work, which is usually accomplished by standing or staying still. Too many of us are afraid of moving, not so much because of the cost but for fear of a failed discernment, of another misstep. But we can only get it right if we keep trying. Staying in a failed discernment gets us no where. Better to make another failed discernment than fail to discern at all.

A Different Kind of Journey

Sometimes the journey takes us down instead of up

I remember a time in my life when things were not going well, had not gone well for years, and I questioned the reason. Am I afraid of suffering? I asked myself. Am I afraid to face reality? Do I want that which cannot be?

Time, reflection, prayer and discernment proved  that the real problem was facing reality. I needed to move on, to accept my inabilities to live the life I had chosen, and step out into a different life. It proved challenging, but I finally accepted my responsibility and made the hard decision.

I think we all come to points like that in our lives. It doesn't have to be traumatic. It does involve serious decision making. We pray, we reflect, we seek advise. Ultimate, we have to make the decision.

Perhaps the difficulty comes from expecting life to follow some sort of norm. Even though we are scripture people, we tend not to read the gospels very deeply, for Jesus portrays anything but! Yet, in our active, engaging and hectic lives, we do seek for stability. The life of a pilgrim looks wondeful on paper, but is not so romantic in reality.

Reality. That's a huge issue. It has to tie in with what we believe, how we seek, and what our values are.  Sometimes accepting reality can be as hard as my ordeal was, one consisting of a total change of careers. But once you begin accepting reality, you begin a different kind of journey, one with more heart and soul than you had before.

You live on a different plane, one deeper and more aware of your destiny. You begin to be less afraid of fear, and strengthened in making hard choices. You find yourself not looking for peace, but for your calling, for fulfillment in the stage of meaningful living, for God. Because your concept of God has changed, and you know he can be reached, he can be touched, he can be taken at his word.

No Energy to Hate

Have you ever come to a time in your life when you cannot endure explanations of God, but rather yearn for insights that lead you into greater love? It is as though you have had enough of the maps of the how, and want to experience the forest or the landscape of the now for yourself; as though mere words no longer satisfied, you need the lived experience.

An ancient legend of an old woman describes how she is asked about her love for God. "Yes, yes, I love him very much," she replies. "And do you hate the devil?" she is asked. "I love God so much I don't have any energy left to hate the devil."

The story makes the point of asking us, where do we put our energies in this pilgrim life we live? There are so many baskets begging us to contribute something, our heart for this cause, our mind for this doctrine, our energy for this group. It's so easy to get caught up in causes and doctrines as to forget we started out as seekers of the Divine.

We need to remind ourselves that it all started with a desire for the Divine; that we are where we are because we have come to love God deeply. We need to take the time to savor where we are in our journey, to stop and enjoy the moment of truth, the place our energies have brought us, the light we share.

It is time to let the Divine warm our hearts and seep into our soul. It is time to enjoy the presence we have worked so hard to identify within our very selves. It is time to put down the map, and relish being.

Time to Forget

Ever have one of those days when you're tired of thinking wonderful and heroic thoughts, when life seems to drag just a bit, and you wonder if you're up the the challenge, the continual challenge of being true to yourself? During such times it is tempting to find a hideaway where we can mope and feel sorry for ourselves. That's because there are times when a safe spot becomes more desirable than a honest one. The storms of life batter and discourage, and its normal to wonder when will it all begin to fall into place, or if it ever will. As much as one glories in being a pilgrim, the pilgrim's life can get down right lonely at times.

I suppose we all go through the above emotions. Life isn't a planned, straight road for most of us. Going it alone can be difficult, even for those of us who are used to it.

Then it is good to hunker down in that soul-room of our heart and just let life be. Because if past experience teaches us anything, it is the truth that God takes care of his own in his own time and in his own way.

So hunker down and enjoy the simple things of life: the sun, the birds, the budding trees. There is a time to let go of bigger issues, and wait on God for strength, hope and courage. There is a time to forget. I think that time is now.

Act as Divine

Forgiveness. It is the hall mark of the Christian, and of anyone following a compassionate spirituality. There are many ways to look at this act, as one bigger and more generous than the other, as one compassionate, or as one acknowledging human frailty and giving others what I want myself.

I believe forgiveness central to any spirituality. Without it the heart becomes hard, closed and vindictive. Central to forgiveness is not just compassion, but common sense. Forgiveness of another's wrong says I don't judge a whole person's life by one act or deed, or a set of acts or deeds. I don't paint a person by one stroke of a brush or one incident. Who of us could survive if we are only perceived by our wrong acts?

Forgiveness isn't just necessary for spiritual health, it is also an important component of mental health. Failure to forgive breeds all sorts of emotional problems: bitterness, vindictiveness, paranoia, and guilt to name a few. Why should we carry this burden on our hearts when we can free ourselves through forgiving the offense? Keeping it alive means letting it grow, fester and becomes infected with exaggerations. It is time consuming, energy depleting, and destructive to our soul.

So let us each make a pledge that no offense or injury is worth ruining our lives. I can see a person more clearly when I let go the offense of that person. Let it go, and let not that act define that person, or burden my heart. Let it go because we all mess up once in a while, and cannot endure our own judgments. Let it go because we need and want the breath of life that forgiveness brings. For to forgive is to act as the Divine

Quenching Our Thirst

Knowledge can be theoretical or practical, something we know in our mind, or by the experience within our soul. There are many who know about God, can argue the fine points of theology on God, and who write volumes on these topics. Then there are those who know God, by lived experience, by the power in their heart, the spirit in their soul, the hope they maintain and the passion they live by.

The 18th century spiritual writer Jean-Pierre De Caussade speaks of this distinction and says it is fire and not the philosophy or scientific knowledge of fire that warms us...if we wish to quence our thirst, we must lay aside books that explain thirst and take a drink. Caussade goes on to explain our moment is the one presented to us in the here and now, in how we handle it, how we divinize it. Book learning is good. But it is not enough.

It's a challenge for us to take our knowledge and make it real through silent meditation; take that meditation and make it alive though daily acts; take those acts and make them fruitful through reflection. All done in search for a deeper understanding and relationship with God.

We all want to know more about God. The greatest knowledge comes by putting the book aside, and quenching our thirst with God himself.

What Happened to Heart?

You often hear the comment, "It's all about faith." Perhaps that prompted James Fowler to write his book, "Stages of Faith". Fowler examines how faith is carried out in the lives of people, in religion and belief. He quotes from Smith, who reminds us that the word credo which is often translated into I believe really means I give my heart to or I hereby commit myself to. Perhaps the shift is subtle. But I do find it a huge difference. Fowler goes so far as to say these linguistic shifts...are causally and symptomatically related to a larger cultural shift...to see faith as belief or a belief system. What happened to the heart?

It's in our heart more than our head that we discern the presence of God. It's in our heart more than our head that we learn the meaning of belief systems. It's in our heart where we find love.

I think part of this shift comes from the scientific revolution that claims to have the ability to prove all truths. We want our faith to be more intellectual, more factual, more documented. Nothing wrong with that until we come to a crisis, when the facts either fail us or fail to lift us, we struggle with disillusionment, and we look for comfort more than answers. This is a time we will understand why it is important to also live by heart, to have that relationship with God, to know he is within.

Let's make our Credo an I give my heart to. Let's not let the present atmosphere of intelligence within the religious community rob us of our personal relationship with God.

Taking the Lead in Your Life

Life. Our life. It's so full of activities, concerns, duties and obligations that it is difficult to focus on the more important aspects of it. James Fowler writes we look for something to love that loves us, something to value that gives us value, something to honor and respect that has the power to sustain our being (Stages of Faith, 5). And because we sometimes stumble, we tend to give our search over to someone else.

I'm reminded of a recent cartoon that shows Moses in front of the Israelites in the desert. Moses is saying, "Follow me!" and heading off to who knows where. In the background is his wife, asking someone for directions. And the captions reads, "After 39.5 years in the desert, Mrs. Moses finally asks for direction." Despite the obvious play on our concept of men not wanting to ask for anything, the picture made an impact on me. Moses was leading the people of God. And however way you want to interpret this journey, they spent 40 years wandering around and getting no where.

The thought is, are we suppose to follow? Or do we each have our own inner commands from God to break from our habits of slavery and cross that threshold of complacency into a life different from our old ways? Are we not to meet God in the meeting tents of our hearts to learn his will for us and to take on new challenges? How many of us have allowed ourselves to be led, only to find out we weren't led to where we were suppose to be? I can never gain back the years lost. So I must learn as early as possible how to discern the way God has destined for me, and not surrender my life into the hands of another.

Jesus called it "the way" and he invites me and you and everyone else to it. The one I must follow is him. And I have the wisdom to do so, because he has put it into my heart. To break from this source and to attach myself to another is to deny the power of God in my own life. And it is to wander for a very long time while someone else leads to only God knows where.

Uncovering The Secret

It is interesting to me how all mainstream religions have an aspect of their practice that one could term "mystical", all dealing with God, the journey toward God, finding God, and living in the presence and awareness of God. It certainly demonstrates how inner desires cut across culture, religion, and region, and can be found in the heart of every individual who seeks something "more".

Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee writes The heart has many secrets, and its greatest mystery is how it can contain the wonders of God (Love is a Fire, xiii) I would change that a bit and say, how the heart can contain God himself! For we know that there is no place God desires to rest more in than the human soul. I would say that our journey consists of uncovering those secrets that reveal God in our soul, that bring us step by step closer to discovery, that unveil the Face that is light.

And so there is good reason to understand oneself, one's journey, one's purpose in life. It is all part of the secret we keep in our hearts, and that we must unpack to learn and understand. Secrets kept even from ourselves, unless we make a conscious effort toward understanding.

Finding God in the Desert

The desert. It in interesting that all mystics seek some type of secluded spot when they want to delve into the innermost part of their souls. Even Jesus went into the desert or on a mountain top when he wanted to pray. What does that tell us? That his disciples were a pain in the you know what? Probably. But it also hints at the importance of putting aside regular life when you want to get serious about finding God within. There is also the sense of silence, of solitude, of aloneness. Of having to find it yourself. No guide, no soul-mate. Just you and God.

When John the Baptist drew followers, Jesus asked those followers "What did you go out into the desert to see?" We might ask ourselves the same questions. What is our purpose in pursuing a greater connection with God? Are we programming our spiritual life like we do our career or our social life? Do we go out into the desert to find? Or to listen?

Perhaps the greatest gift of the desert is its silence and solitude. It makes us realize the potential for a new way of living. It offers us a new level of understanding. It demonstrates how little we really need in life to find reward.

Enter into the desert without a schedule or a plan. Let what you find lead you to where you didn't know. The desert reveals different things to different people. And you will come to realize God is better than when you first believed.

Life Outside the Norm

The other challenge to faith, I think, is to never be complacent. It's a tendency in life, to become comfortable with a system, a place, a position. It's not wrong, it's just not life-giving. But with faith, we have to be the one to move forward. Perhaps that's why suffering can be beneficial to those who believe. We can take suffering and let it lead us out of our safe place and turn it to a seeking for "more".

I've consoled myself with this thought as my life continues to move forward in uncharacteristic ways. I know my life has not followed the "norm" and I suppose part of my reflection is finding a good aspect to my continued journey forward. I'd like the "norm". It just isn't the way life happened to me, or better yet, the way I've chosen to go. I want it to represent something good, something active, something life-giving, and so I think of all the ways one could live without seeking, and I conclude its to accept the "norm".

But isn't it true that the "norm" tends to be static? Isn't it true that too many are set in their ways, unable to move into an unfamiliar area of faith, of life, of living? And isn't this fear, a fear that paralyzes?

So I think I am not too far off the mark here. And instead of wishing my life followed the "norm" I'm trying to be grateful I have so many opportunities to be alive.

Challenging Faith

Drawn By Mary Grace Thul, OP

For those of us sincere about our spiritual journey, we think our sincerity protects us from abuses done in the name of God. Yet, certain stories can shake you and make you stop and reflect. One such story came from Griffith's book Encountering the Sacred in Psychotherapy. This narrative dealt with a family who had a son who suffered from severe diabetes. After attending a healing service, the boy and his parents felt the hand of God upon them, and believed the son was healed. Going forth in faith, they dispensed with the insulin, despite continued symptoms of the disease. Faith, they argued, was what they needed. To use the insulin when they believed he was healed would be to succumb to temptation. They felt the symptoms were there to test them, not to inform them. He died, and the parents were charged with involuntary manslaughter. They thought they were fighting tempation. Instead, they were fighting reason. I wondered, how could faith go so wrong?

Griffith offers his own theory on the subject: spiritual beliefs and practices, intended as doorways into the wholeness of life and relationships can as quickly become doorways to hell...the power of spirituality and religion must be respected but not idealized.  Perhaps this caution should be taken to heart by all of us who believe. Faith should never replace sound reason. Faith is not a magic carpet that takes us over the human frailties of life. Faith is only as good as it makes the believer accept her human condition, and work with it.

Faith gone wrong doesn't just apply to the radical. Nor does it always end so drastically. It is up to us to examine our practice of faith, and discover the contradictions between what we say and how we live. A challenge indeed.

Authenticity to Transformation

When is it good to be your authentic self, and when is your authentic self not good enough? I've been pondering this question for some time now. I'll share my thoughts on the matter:

We all know how refreshing it is to be in contact with someone who is authentic. It's like a breath of fresh air, for we acknowledge the courage an individual has when she reveals the true "me".  Such a person has taken a chance at being vulnerable, open, naked. And no communication is quite as refreshing.

So, what's not to like about an authentic self? As a person who is striving to unmask the individual I really am, I've learned that there are pitfalls here as well. It comes when I confuse the authentic self with the acceptable self, when I think that authenticity is good enough. We must never forget that, whatever we are or wherever we are in life, there is always need for transformation. And that's the danger: that having reached a certain degree of authenticity, we may settle. We may forget to continue to move forward, we may forget that what we've found is only a beginning; that there is still work to be done.

I guess its a matter of reflection. Being yourself is good. Staying yourself...not so good.

What to Do When we Fail to Find

 I think one of my favorte gospel stories comes from John 6:66. Jesus has just explained to the crowd that he is the bread of life. Many followers are confused and even scandalized. They turn from Jesus and walk away. Jesus turns to his own twelve, and says those sorrowful words, "Will you also go away?" And Peter answers, "Lord, to whom shall we go?"

I think there are times in our lives when we are tempted to give it all up. We often blame betrayal by those we put our trust. But that is not the real reason we would give up believing in something or someone. It is always deeper. Giving up implies a surrender, a failure to find, or a total misunderstanding of what was promised. It happens to all of us at some time in our life. It isn't so much a crisis of faith as it is a new insight into its flaws. And we are shaken.

By now we are all aware that faith does not protect us from evil. It does not save us from harm. It is not a shield to guard us, nor does it always hand us the strength we want and need. When we reailze this, we too are tempted to "go away".

What is marvelous about Peter's answer is, he was just as mystified by Jesus words as the others. He didn't know the answer, he couldn't see any better. But what Peter did have that many others did not, was the knowledge that it wasn't going to get any better by leaving.

To whom shall we go? In other words, well, Lord, this following you is pretty scary. You speak in riddles, you do things that are against the law. You live like a bum and perform miracles like a magician. But Lord, though I don't understand it all, I know that you are leading us to something new, something exalted. And I don't have to understand it totally to know that your words will give us light. Not all at once. But if I stay with you, I shall gradually understand, and gradually see, and gradually experience true life.

Stay with Jesus until you experience the goodness he has to offer, and your heart says, "Lord, it is good for us to be here." And you will be so glad you did not go away.

Better Than Light

We read in Isaiah On High I dwell, and in holiness, and with the crushed and dejected in spirit. To revive the spirits of the dejected, to revive the hearts of the crushed. (57:15)

One of the difference between the Christian religion and other religions and spirituality is the concept of God and where he dwells. Christians believe that God dwells not up in the heavens (Jewish scriptures portray him there) but in our own hearts and souls. That Jesus came to let us know the God we worship is as near to us as we are.

The concept gives us a clue to just how close God is to us. He is not content to be absent, so that we have to search for him. It is he who searches and prods us. He doesn't wait for us to call; he lends his assistance even before we ask.

So what does this mean for our spiritual journey? It means instead of living to "find" God, we must work at being "aware" of him, so close and yet so far away in our minds. Attention to his proddings, his whispers, his helping hand will only come when we awaken.

So when you are in meditation, when you are reflecting or in prayer, image God close to you. When you are questioning, speak to the God within. When you are struggling, remember, the hand stretched out to assist you is there. All you need do is stretch out your hand, and take the Hand of God. And he will be to you better than light.

Value of Vulnerability

We know we are on a quest in life. Yet, we do grow tired of the seeking. I think one of our problems comes from our culture. We like to possess, to accomplish, to arrive. And yet the very nature of quest is longing, seeking, journey. I find this in myself, the desire to "arrive" and find myself sometimes stressed with continued seeking, especially when things are dark.

Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee speaks to this kind of attitude, attributing it to our masculine vs feminine side. He notes our quest is goal-oriented, and that masculine values even dominate our spiritual quest: we seek to be better, to improve ourself, to get somewhere. We have forgotten the feminine qualities of waiting, listening, being empty (24). I find these words ring true for me.

Perhaps some of these problems stem from our concept of waiting. For us modern people, waiting is more of a punishment, an inconvenience, a test. Waiting implies some sort of failure to arrive. Possession is seen as our accomplishment. And not to have possession implies emptiness.

Yet, much happens in waiting. We do more self-reflection while waiting than in possession. We are more attentive, more alert, more filled with desire. Waiting also increases our yearning. Vaughan-Lee  says longing awakens us to our own need,a need which we can never satisfy, and so we become infinitely vulnerable, exposed to this need.

 None of us like to be vulnerable. Yet, isn't that our true state? The secret to accepting vulnerability is to stay aware of our protector, the all-present ALL. Only then will yearning bear fruit. Only then will we see value in waiting.

Making the Choice

Today I was encouraged by a reading from the Song of Songs: Arise, my beloved...see, the winter is past,the rains are over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth... Now, I admit, my encouragement is totally natural...the thought of spring, of blossoms, of trees budding and plants bursting forth at this time of year just heartens me! And I know I'm not alone in this!

A friend told me recently how she learned about nature early in childhood. And as she grew older, she took lessons she'd learned and applied it to her life. She remembered when things were tough that winter always gives way to spring and summer. She took hints from her travels through the woods, her learning to pay attention to not only what was ahead, but the path she came from, and applied it to her spiritual journey. And, she said, she is encouraged at the remembrance that the many birds, small and simple as they are, all had their part to play in nature.

Nature can teach us so many things. It can remind us that our spiritual journey is not so different than our walk through the woods. It can remind us through a myriad of images of God's goodness, grace, the fleeting moments we have, and hope for change. It's there for us. We must make use of these gifts.

Julia Verhaeghe writes: Everything is simple in Christ, our friend and brother. Yet, how inclined we are to make the simplest things difficult and complicated.

Sounds like the choice is ours.

Longing Isn't Enough

I often talk on this blog of longing and of seeking on our journey. For me, it is the difference between a spirituality of contentment and a spirituality of never enough. But the "never enough" isn't helpful unless we realize where this discontentment springs from: our longing for the Ultimate.

Vaughan-Lee speaks to this in his book Love is a Fire: Just as Love is the Essence of the path, so is longing its agent of transformation. Vaughan-Lee reminds us that though we are born for God, we forget. We lose sight of our Ultimate, we get distracted. And then life gets messy. We get promptings of our lost: dissatisfaction with our job, our career, our present stature in life. Having all, but feeling empty. Wanting more, but not sure what "more" is. And, he says, sometimes people brush it aside; the last thing they want is to be distracted from their outer goals, their achievements, and to be taken into the vulnerability and need that are within them.

It's not just fear of the unknown. It's unknowing as well. We aren't trained for the spiritual journey, nor are we prepared for it by our culture. It is almost the "secret" we find, the treasure hidden in the field. And though we want it, the way to it is obscure and shrouded with mystery.

So how best to deal with out longings? To accept them, to look inside, to wait in silence, to seek the more through good counsel. One step at a time. One longing at a time. If it were easy, every seeker would have it. But it is only given to those who persist, who don't give up the search, who know that whatever I have spiritually now, it isn't the Ultimate. It isn't enough.

There would be Diminution

Probably the question most common to all ages is the question of evil. I have my own theories, about the power of free will and its affects on others; God's ability to bring good from it all. So I was intrigued when I read Anscar Vonier's words It is a certain truth that if God in his providence exterminated every evil deed at once, killed every evil-doer, the final sum of goodness would be less. We have our Lord's own words for it; there would be diminution.

Vonier goes on to explain how evil brings out greater faith, courage, and fortitude among believers. He reminds us that we are a community; we are bound up with one another, we affect one another, not just evil, but good. But there is the fact--an absolute certainty, goodness inevitbly produces goodness; it is unconquerable, it cannot be stifled, it has greater ramifications than evil can ever have...

Perhaps our problems lies in concentrating too much on the question of evil, and not enough on the power of goodness. When Jesus came, the light meant a great deal because people had lived so long in darkness. Resurrection means so much because Jesus died.  Hope holds power because of the heaviness of despair. The list goes on.

Now is a good time to renew our faith in our own goodness. We who believe need to have greater confidence of God's power in our lives. If we want others to believe no darkness can keep away the light, we must start with our own, and let the light shine forth.

Embracing Disenchantment

I'm reading John Shea's Story of God  and find his concept of mystery fascinating. He uses Kazantzakis's description of mystery, the luminous interval between two darknesses and takes it one step further, when the reliability of all we have constructed is brought into question, we enter the dimension of Mystery (25).

It's amazing to think that in a world of knowledge, unknowing can contain something positive and fulfilling. Are we just trying to put a good spin on pain and injustice? Are we making light of sickness or poverty or emotional distress? I don't think so. Science bears out the fact that having the ability to find something good in a bad situation actually speeds healing. But this is more. This is discovery, and sometimes we don't really search until our world falls apart with what has proven good enough, and we need to find something better.

Shea speaks at some length about the need for our ready answers and expectations to fail. He says Disenchantment is a traditional and well-established path to the awareness of Mystery...the beginning of mature religious consciousness (28-29).Shea's statement is obvious: I suspect every one of us can look back over the times in our lives when we entered into a new spiritual consciousness, and can track it to some form of  disenchantment we experienced.

Mystery. It is not something to be feared, but  something to embrace. For it has the power to lead us to new depths.

The Stars of Darkness

Today's reading for services focused on light, and how we as believers can become a light for others. As I reflect on the different types of light, an interesting thought came to me. What light guides us? The sun? No, that tells us the time of day, and a general direction of east, south and west. But what light gives the greatest guidance? Is it not the stars?

Furthermore, stars shine day and night, but we only see them when the sun sets. The darker the sky, the brighter the stars. And they are brightest on a moonless night. For years, navagators used the stars to guide them, giving them precise directions, charting them through areas where there was no other land mark to guide them.

I would like to suggest the same can be true for our lives. When life seems dark, we have a greater capacity for direction, inspiration, guidance. We shine brighter, because when we keep faith during crisis, others know our faith and trust is more than mere words. Often it is when we experience darkness that we receive our greatest inspirations, most wonderous thoughts, deepest poems and profound creations. It's as though we too pierce the veil better when the bright light no longer shines.

None of us like darkness. I would rather be lit by the sun than navigate by the stars. But, as in all things, nature has something to teach us, that wherever we are in life, God's purpose can be fulfilled. And we should cling to this knowledge, that darkness is not dark to God. Because, in darkness, you can be an even greater light to those around you, to your family and friends, even to yourself.

Stars of night, shining bright, teach us to treasure our times to shine, that we too may become beacons for those wandering and in need of a light.

Gazing Toward the Divine

Work done by Sr. Mary Grace Thul,OP

Bede Jarrett writes To contemplate is perfectly simple; it is to gaze... The truth of that statement can only be realized with time and patience. For we will not immediately see the Divine when we look. We must take the hunter's stance and watch and wait. We must re-tune our senses to the spiritual world, and learn to see the light in the darkness. We must hear the whispers of God that only come from sustained silence. When we have done this, we have not yet contemplated.

For that, we must accept that God comes to us through the silence. He comes when the prayers we've said seemed unanswered. When the answers we've accepted fail to sustain. When what seemed solid begins to fail, and what seems straight becomes crooked. Then, when our world has been turned upside down, and we continue to believe, then we pierce the veil that shields the Divine from our soul. Then, we touch the untouchable with a sensitivity only given to the patient.

Jarrett says Gradually I find that there are inner meanings to all these sanctities of God, which come to those who patiently await the unfolding of the seed of the kingdom (Classic Catholic Meditations).

Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase, Good things come to those who wait.

Your Small Doorway to Destiny

Jesus said, "Follow me." But he didn't indicate we should follow anyone else. And, from what the gospels portray, he didn't do much following himself.

Now being a follower is not bad. The danger is, when you are following, you are not searching. When you are following, you are passively engaging, but not actively pursuing. In plain words, when you are following someone, you are not striving to be your best self.

I like to interpret the words, "The way is narrow, and few are those who find it" to mean, each of us must find our personal mission given only to us. It is part of being our authentic selves. It requires courage, for it begins with self-discovery. Then comes acceptance, because new beginnings can only start with where we really are.

If you take on the challenge of self-discovery, you will find that small doorway into destiny. Only you fit into your personal destiny. It won't be a clear path. There will be brambles to clear, dark alleys to endure, and times when too many directions loom before  you. But once set upon that journey, you will be loathed to leave it. Because joy comes not only in possession of your treasure, but in the purest pursuit of it as well.

Seekers or Succumbers?

Many scholars, philosophers, and wise individuals have noted the need of the human heart to go beyond the here and now; of the fact that we are not satisfied with what is, but seek what might be. At least, those who desire to be alive and ardent are seeking. But where does all this seeking lead us? To discontent, constant change, endless questioning? Where do we find our peace?

I suppose like all matters of the heart, it depends on your intentions. If you are discontent simply because you judge nothing ever good enough for you, that might be a real emotion/psychological problem. But if you are discontent because you are seeking the calling you've been born to, that is a different matter entirely. If you are discontent because you sense meaning, and are being led, that is a call.

Our culture doesn't reward those who seek, but rather those who succumb to the pressures of success. Seekers are the rarity, and therefore a novelty. Seekers are also those who live deeply, who experience profoundly, and live richly rewarding lives.

Risking for the Dream

 I recently received an ad for a magazine that quoted a Graham Nash song: Make sure that the things you do keep us alive." In ad went on to say, The next day I walked to work, quit my job, and kept walking. Better to be a pilgrim without a destination, I figured, than to cross the wrong threshold every day."

A pilgrim. It isn't an easy life. In fact, if given a choice, most of us would probably prefer a more settled life, one where we are close to family and friends, places we know, roads that are familiar. But being a pilgrim doesn't mean restlessness. A real pilgrim is one who is searching, and willing to do whatever it takes to find.

Perhaps that is the lesson of the story behind Moses and his people wandering thirty years in the desert, or Jesus telling us he had no place to lay down his head. And perhaps the wandering should be seen not as a life style but more of a period in life when we realize we are not where we should be. It is an invitation, a beckoning to a deeper life, a chance to change. Perhaps the pilgrim is best described as the person willing to make the move when it becomes clear what she has is not working, is not life-giving, is not for her.

Being a pilgrim in our day and age requires courage, faith and trust. To let go of what you have for something you are not sure of, but believe must be out there somewhere is awfully close to recklessness. When one departs on such a journey, there are many questions, many doubts, many insecurities. What keeps the pilgrim on the path? The belief that the journey is taking her some place, a place she ultimately belongs. And for that hope, she is willing to risk everything.

Great things are borne of hope. What are you willing to risk for your dream?