YOU CAN TAKE IT WITH YOU

I have been wrestling for some time to find a way to live faithfully through these difficult days. Even as my life has been less impacted than the lives of so many others, my heart still aches, my sorrow for others deepens, my frustration increases, and honestly, my disdain for certain people grows with every alarming news story. How do I live and serve as a child of God when I often feel like a hopeless, hateful human?

I tried to convince myself that if I just organized and balanced my days, my mind and spirit would be better. For example, I wanted to delegate time for being informed but also for remaining centered. Or to assign times for advocacy and activism, but also for contemplation and community. Or to write strong opinions to my representatives but also to write tender notes to my loved ones. I questioned whether to read the news first, then move to prayerful journaling… or to write to my representatives and then enjoy my daily walk… or to walk and then write.

But I have found that my scheduling does not add to my peace.

What I am gradually learning is that whatever my soul needs–peace, strength, compassion, inspiration, perspective–will always and only come from God. God is always with me, always guiding me through every challenge, every joy. And when I recognize a need, I can count on God to supply that need, or something even better–what is truly needed for that moment.

Joan Chittester has a beautiful book titled, The Monastery of the Heart. I love this image, this idea that we have an inner monastery, a precious sanctuary that we can carry with us into our daily living! And yes, for the goodness of God to flourish within us, the monastery does need tending–with practices of prayer, confession, forgiveness, discernment, or gratitude–but this tending need not be on a regimented schedule. Trusting that God’s Spirit is truly within us, we have an abiding monastery that always accompanies us into the busyness, the trials, the contemplations, the calls to action, the living of our days.

I am learning that peace is not found in the practice itself but in the presence of God within it.

What is our soul longing for at this very moment? Can we open our monastery doors and let God’s guiding light shine out? Can we rest inside our inner sanctuary and let God’s quieting peace enfold us? Can we hold our monastery as our centering compass, and let God move us to lovingly respond, not hastily react? Our longing is inviting us to the monastery–that ever present, readily accessible sanctuary in which we can center in the presence of God.

Yes, “we can take it with us,” and faithfully live in the peace, hope, love, and joy of God in Christ.
For God is with us in the monasteries of our hearts through all the journeys of our days.

Photo by Karen (Portiuncula Chapel, Lourdes University, Sylvania)