Simply Soul Searching
HOW IS GOD LOVING ME – AND WHERE IS GOD LEADING ME?
RETURN TO MEEKS MOUNTAIN
And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul. ~ John Muir
Three months after my hip replacement, I was finally able to return to our beloved Meeks Mountain! I was joyful, even giddy, to be able to hike in nature, retreat from news and noise, and reflect with God–pain free. Today I am sharing some of the beauty, with quotes that inspire me. I hope you find a small respite for your spirit here.
Don’t worry about where you are or what you have or even what you think you want. Take one step at a time and worry only about only this – who you are – who you really are. Find what you love, love what makes you happy – try giving instead of getting, try caring instead of hating. Remove the mindless distractions from your life and focus on the things and people that matter the most to you. Follow your heart to discover what makes you happy, never let go of it, never devalue anything that is beautiful, and build a life that lets you be yourself. ~ Benjamin F Sullivan
Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher. ~ William Wordsworth
Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished. ~ Lao Tzu
Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature–the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter. ~ Rachel Carson
Come to the woods for here is rest. ~ John Muir
In the middle of it all, pause and look around you. Appreciate what’s beautiful. Take in the love. Nod to what’s good and true. And then move forward one step at a time. ~ Kathy Freston
A walk in nature walks the soul back home. ~ Mary Davis
Allow nature’s peace to flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. ~ John Muir
The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles. ~ Anne Frank
Take care and God bless you this week, my friends.
WISDOM IS A JOURNEY
Wisdom is a journey,
a passage through the years,
with lessons learned
and insights gained
through trials and toils and tears.
Wisdom is a posture,
an eagerness to see
with open mind
and open heart
each possibility.
Wisdom is a detour,
a new way we are led,
through change of heart,
a different choice,
a turning of the head.
Wisdom is a silence,
a patience to refrain
from hasty, hurtful,
hate-filled words,
maturity to gain.
Wisdom is a treasure
revealed along the way.
In listening well,
in seeking truth,
it deepens every day.
Wisdom is a partner
who shares each path we trod.
We walk in faith,
in hope, in trust…
and hold the hand of God.
(Photo by Karen, Meeks Mountain, WV)
FROM WHY TO WONDER
While Jim and I were visiting his mom, Gayle, at her assisted-living residence, we spent one afternoon enjoying the music of a local singer. He was a favorite with the residents, and for two hours, he sang a variety of gospel songs and hymns. As I listened, I observed the residents around me…
Gayle is doing very well; she is a cheerful, caring friend for many of the residents and staff. The woman next to me took my hand into her lap and held it, smiling up as if she recognized me. A blind woman sat across the room, happily singing and swaying to the music. Several people called out requests, while others sat silently. One seemed irritated. A few were weepy.
I thought about the length of our time here on earth. Why do some people live beyond their hopes and dreams, while others die before they can dream them? Why did I survive cancer while others have not? Why do some lives linger long while others are suddenly interrupted?
And then… the singer began singing, “How Great Thou Art.”
Many of the residents began singing along, and a deep reverence filled the room. Peace radiated from these folks as we sang about the greatness of God–from those who were thriving, but also from those who were lingering, struggling, or simply remembering. Unexpectedly, my tears began to flow; my extended family has often requested this beloved hymn for the funerals of our loved ones. Faith is a God-given peaceful trust that enables us to praise God even as we grieve, or hurt, or cannot understand.
When my questions overwhelm, when “why?” fills my thoughts, I am tempted to say, “When I get to heaven, I am going to ask God why…” But I am comforted to know that when we get to life eternal, we will no longer care about our questions.
Our whys will be turned into wonders.
We are already living in an eternal continuum. And when we behold this present life with less why and more wonder, we begin to trust that ordinary moments are filled with more than we can imagine… that life has been created perfectly–we only imperfectly comprehend… that life holds secrets that will one day bless us beyond our dreams…
and every Why we have today will be replaced with the Wonder of God.
“A genuine faith resolves the mystery of life by the mystery of God.” ~ Reinhold Niebuhr
Can you find out the deep things of God?
Can you find out the limit of the Almighty?
It is higher than heaven—what can you do?
Deeper than Sheol—what can you know?
Its measure is longer than the earth
and broader than the sea.
Job 11:7-9 (NRSVUE)
(Photo by Karen; Bible verses found at https://www.biblegateway.com/)
EBENEZER
We sang one of my favorite hymns during a worship service a few weeks ago, “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” by Robert Robinson. I especially love the line, “Here’s my heart; O, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.” But this time, the word, “Ebenezer” caught my attention.
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I’m come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Ebenezer is a Hebrew word that means “stone of help.” In 1 Samuel 7:12, we read that Samuel took a stone and set it upright, like an altar of gratitude, and named the stone, “Ebenezer.” Samuel had done this to remind the Israelites of God’s goodness to them while they lived in a time of war and faithlessness. Years later, Robert Robinson wrote this hymn, including the phrase, “Here I raise my Ebenezer.” He had been living a troubled young life when a preacher inspired him to accept Christ. He then became a minister, and he wrote this hymn as a written altar of gratitude he could raise to God.1
With these thoughts in mind, I noticed this large rock on my walking route the other day. “That could be my Ebenezer rock,” I thought to myself. I have not had a conversion experience like Robinson, but God has certainly been with me, loving and helping me through every moment. I picked up the rock to “raise my Ebenezer” and found it quite heavy!
And here is what came to me…
I have most readily felt God’s presence and help through my greatest grief, during my most difficult challenges, for my heaviest guilt, and in my deepest wounds. So, my Ebenezer rock is appropriately heavy, representing these burdens of my past, burdens I could only bear with the help of God. And in setting the rock down as an altar of gratitude and remembrance, the weight of these burdens was again relieved, physically and symbolically. I walked on, aware and now unencumbered, relieved and now grateful.
Here I raise my Ebenezer. Thank you, God. I remember.
Here’s my heart; O take and seal it;
seal it for thy courts above.
1Information summarized from https://www.biblestudytools.com.
Lyrics found at https://hymnary.org/text/come_thou_fount_of_every_blessing
Photo by Karen
I AM RIGHT HERE WITH YOU
My dear Uncle Ken worked as a custodian at the high school I attended years ago. I was fortunate to have him there with me, as a friend, mentor–and guardian.
One day, a few of us students were in the gymnasium, hanging “spirit banners” high on the walls to encourage our basketball team. With a rolled-up banner and masking tape in hand, I climbed the industrial-sized ladder to hang my first one. All went smoothly until I turned to come back down–and realized just how far I could fall. The view is much different looking down from the top!
I froze in place, terrified.
And just that quickly, my uncle was up the ladder, standing beside me. “I’m right here with you,” he quietly assured me. We then backed down each step together, his presence on the step beneath me, his arms on the rails beside me, surrounding me as a protective shield against a possible mishap. I may have been embarrassed, but I was no longer afraid.
As I remember this incident, I see how my uncle demonstrated God’s loving care and presence that day. Uncle Ken didn’t question my judgment, asking “What were you thinking?” or “Did you not consider how high you would get?” He didn’t stand at the bottom and scold, “You got yourself up there, now get yourself down.” He didn’t shame me by saying, “Don’t be such a coward.” He didn’t discount my fear with statements like, “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” or “You’re not even up that high.”
He just accompanied me on the way down.
So it is with God. I am certain there will be other times when my exuberance or impulsiveness will win over wisdom and discernment. I will eagerly pursue a new invitation or challenge, thinking I am more capable, available, or prepared than I really am. And God will go with me, knowing the ways I will eventually falter, fear, or fail. If I wander too far into unknown territory, climb too high in pursuit of a dream, reach too far in eagerness to help, or take on burdens I can no longer carry, I may then find myself humiliated, frustrated, disappointed, or grieved.
But I will also find God ready for my very next step, surrounding and assuring me in Infinite Love, “I’m right here with you.”
(Photo by Karen, Peak, SC)
ALACRITY
I came upon this lovely word, “alacrity” this week while reading, Surrounded by Love: Seven Teachings from Saint Francis. Author Murray Bodo, OFM, writes of Francis, “Once he knew God’s will, whether from some mystical voice or from listening to the scriptures, he would immediately try to live it out. He was filled with what theologians called, ‘devotion,’ an alacrity in doing God’s will.”
Dictionary.com defines alacrity as “cheerful readiness, promptness, or willingness; liveliness; briskness.”
Following God’s will usually seems fairly simple to me: love God, love others, trust and follow the ways of Jesus. Because I do feel joy and hope when I serve this way, I am often able to follow God’s will with “cheerful readiness.”
And yet, St. Francis answered God’s call to some challenging trials with that same fervent enthusiasm.
I may long to share the alacrity of Francis, but rarely do I earnestly pray “your will be done” with liveliness or cheerfulness. I feel a sense of surrender, subconsciously adding “even if this will be difficult” or “even if I am disappointed or heartbroken” to my prayer. Because there have been times when I prayed these words with tears and fears. Because I know that Jesus followed God’s will and his life was very difficult. Because I tend to regard this petition as a spiritual obligation to deny myself and pick up my cross (Luke 9:23). And in those rare times when I have sensed a specific call in my life, I may have accepted it willingly and enthusiastically–but also with plenty of fear and doubt.
Perhaps the source of Francis’ alacrity is this other word–devotion. St. Francis was fully devoted to God, and even more, he knew God was fully devoted to him. Seeing their relationship as one of mutual devotion, Francis trusted that God loved him, God’s intentions for him were good, and God would accompany him through every joy and sorrow, blessing and trial.
God has initiated this relationship of mutual devotion with us, so we too, can have an alacrity for doing God’s will. In mutual devotion, God provides partnership, companionship, comfort, encouragement, and direction for every trouble we encounter in this earthly life. When I pray “your will be done,” I can trust that God’s will for us is benevolent. God’s will is hopeful, gracious, and eternal–far beyond my daily trials or sorrows. God’s will is that “…our joy may be complete,” no matter how the day unfolds.
(I am posting my weekly post a few days early.)
Photo by Karen, Hocking Hills, Ohio. This speaks to me of God’s love flowing freely to bring us joy.
A NEW INVITATION
(I had another post ready for this week, but the recent events have suddenly inspired this prayerful poem. May you all feel God’s peace and hope, today and every day.)
I want to write of hope and joy,
and to disregard the strife,
but your invitation comes to me:
I need you to write of life.
I want to walk in gentleness
upon wooded hills with you,
but your voice calls out from noisy throngs:
I need you to walk here, too.
I want to give my life to you,
serve you with all my heart,
but you point out the lost and least:
Right here is where you start.
I want to speak sweet words of love
to those I like to please,
but you turn me ’round to face my foes:
I need you to speak with these.
I want to seek a restful place,
where hate and fear will cease,
but you reach out your hand and say:
I need you to work for peace.
(Photo by Karen, hiking path on Meeks Mountain)
IN THE SMALLEST OF SPACES
Jim and I have recently worshiped in two different church buildings.
The first was a large traditional sanctuary, with stained glass windows and an ornate decor that fostered an atmosphere of majestic reverence. When we sang the hymns, beautiful organ music resounded in the spaciousness, supplementing our individual voices scattered and diminished among the pews.
The second was a small rental space where about twenty of us were closely gathered on folding chairs. This time, our singing was accompanied by lovely music from a portable keyboard. Several of us noted how well our few voices filled the room, how our closeness fostered a deeper sense of community. Both experiences were reverent and meaningful, yet I found that the smaller space did not detract from our worship time but actually enhanced it.
I once again recognized how God’s presence and power are not limited by the size of God’s workspace.
God’s good growth arises from the smallest of seeds. God’s wise insight is revealed in a quiet, fleeting moment. God’s compassion is shared in one simple kindness. God’s healing begins with one timid prayer. God’s wondrous love is shown in one holy and lowly human being.
For every trial and challenge in this life, we can be encouraged and reassured to remember…
God’s infinite goodness can flow from the smallest of spaces.
God can work through our small selves and humble efforts to bring about God’s greater purposes of love and peace. Every individual act of lovingkindness has the potential to bring about greater lovingkindness, because God’s presence unites with and expands the acts of each caring person around the world.
And God’s infinite goodness can fill the smallest of spaces.
God can fill a few quiet moments, an earnest seeking heart, a briefly whispered plea, or a tender confession with the gifts of infinite guidance and immense love. When we open the door of our innermost souls just a bit, God’s wondrous presence can fill us to overflowing.
In every humble, faithful space we offer to God, there is enormous potential–and plenty of room–for God to bring about its higher and holier purpose.
(Photo by Karen)
LEANING
“To those leaning on the sustaining infinite, today is big with blessings.” ~ Mary Baker Eddy
After years of hiking with a bad hip, I grew accustomed to leaning–to the right when I hiked, to the left when I stood in place–in any way that helped ease the pain. My hip has now been replaced and I am largely pain-free, yet I find that I often continue to lean, favoring my bad hip when it is no longer necessary.
Noticing this tendency led me to consider other ways I might be leaning, simply out of habit, comfort, caution, obliviousness, or complacency. Here are just a few…
I lean toward routine, away from spontaneity. I lean toward reading books or listening to podcasts that support my own beliefs and biases and lean away from considering opinions that differ from mine. I lean away from large social gatherings with unfamiliar people. I lean toward seeking God in nature more than in ordinary moments or encounters. I lean toward passivity and lean away from assertiveness, toward insecurity and away from confidence. I lean toward self-determination and away from reliance on others.
In all the ways I lean, it is my hope that I may lean toward the loving ways of God.
May I lean toward kindness, peace, generosity, justice, love, humility, mercy, and graciousness. May I lean away from self-centeredness, pride, closed-mindedness, apathy, criticism, and other ways in which I am not living in love. May I lean into the winds that challenge and test me but can then perfect me. May I lean away from the comfortable ways that entice me, but then keep me distracted and dormant.
And it is my greater hope that if I may lean more fully on God, I will actually walk more uprightly in God.
My child, if you accept my words
and treasure up my commandments within you,
making your ear attentive to wisdom
and inclining your heart to understanding,
if you indeed cry out for insight
and raise your voice for understanding,
if you seek it like silver
and search for it as for hidden treasures—
then you will understand the fear of the Lord
and find the knowledge of God.
For the Lord gives wisdom;
from his mouth come knowledge and understanding;
he stores up sound wisdom for the upright;
he is a shield to those who walk blamelessly,
guarding the paths of justice
and preserving the way of his faithful ones.
Then you will understand righteousness and justice
and equity, every good path,
for wisdom will come into your heart,
and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul;
prudence will watch over you,
and understanding will guard you.
Proverbs 2:1-11, NRSV
(Photos by Karen; Bible verses found at https://www.biblegateway.com/)
OPEN TO POSSIBILITY
Am I doing enough with my life?
Perhaps four weeks out from my hip surgery is not the best time to ask this question! But I have been wondering about this for some time now. Since my time with cancer (nine years ago), I especially regard each day as a bonus day to fill with meaning or purpose. I want to feel as if I am somehow living in a way that is worthy of this gift.
And so, I often ask myself additional questions…
At the end of my life, will I be glad I spent the day this way?
Am I choosing simplicity for my life, or is this really complacency?
Is my aging body preventing me from doing more, or have I grown comfortable with doing less?
Why does my spirit inspire me to action, but the action soon feels daunting?
Are any anticipated or actual obstacles guiding me to abandon this goal, or are they building my faith and trust?
Will there ever come a time when I will know I have done enough?
As much as I would like to honor God with my life, with gratitude and faithful servanthood, in recent years my dreams and inspirations often seem to fade each time I consider acting on them. But today it occurs to me that instead of dwelling on these doubts and questions, I can simply begin with one small act:
I will ask God to help me remain open to possibilities; to be more attentive to any ideas that stir me, inspirations that nudge me, goals that excite me–even thoughts that challenge me–no matter how small or insignificant they seem. This time of life may be a time for rest, refreshment, and reflection. But I can live each restful day with a sense of wonder and expectation, with a spirit of readiness and willingness. I can be peaceful and patient and yet, prepared.
And I will trust that any sacred invitation will arrive at its proper time, revealed by the One who is ready to help me answer the call.
(Photo by Karen)
Simply Soul Searching 