Simply Soul Searching
HOW IS GOD LOVING ME – AND WHERE IS GOD LEADING ME?
HOW LONG WILL THIS LAST?
My sister Janet had cautioned us that the path around Jordan Pond would be challenging, but Jim and I set out with confidence. We had our hiking sticks and walking shoes. We had our strength and stamina from regularly hiking farther than the distance around this pond. We knew to follow Janet’s helpful suggestion: start early and go counterclockwise to accomplish the harder portion first. We were well-prepared and positive!
Janet had also warned us that we would encounter boulders along our way–but I had not anticipated such large boulders, nor how long the boulder-strewn path would continue. Several times I struggled for balance, my walking stick slipped into a few crevices, and Jim would gasp behind me and warn, “Be careful, Honey!” As we continued to climb and clamber, my hip ached and my spirit sagged.
My constant inner question was, “How long will this last?”
Later, as I reflected on our experience, I began to sense that much of our difficulty came from this uncertainty. We didn’t know how long we would endure these boulders; the trees and curves on our path kept us from seeing very far ahead. I felt that if only we could have seen where the path would become level and smooth again, we could have held our goal in sight, and I would have been more inspired and encouraged for this leg of our journey.
But maybe not.
I may have found that the boulders continued for a much longer distance. I may have discovered additional obstacles after the boulders. I may have become more discouraged and prompted to turn back. We then would have missed the beauty that was still before us.
And so it is when we are enduring any of life’s difficult trials. The question, “How long will this last?” can fill our every thought. Often, we cannot know; the time frames of life are not always precise nor predictable. How many more treatments will I need? How long will this pain linger? When will I find a job? Will there ever be relief? How long must I wait for answers? We can feel almost desperate to know–and yet afraid to know.
How do we continue on in our times of uncertainty, pain, heartache, or struggle? How do we endure?
As Jim and I learned on our hike, we take the very next step. We pause to rest and breathe. We watch for the beauty. We go with encouraging companions. We help one another along the way. We feel God holding, guiding, and providing us with strength and sustenance in each moment. We carry with us the hope of a better, brighter day…
and we trust that it will come.
With God as our resting place, we can run with perseverance the race that is set before us.
There will always be a race.
And there will always be a resting place.1
(Photos by Karen and Jim; Jordan Pond, Bar Harbor, ME)
1Rubietta, Jane. Resting Place: A Personal Guide to Spiritual Retreats. Intervarsity Press, 2005.
“SEE YOU IN SEPTEMBER”
My Reader Friends,
I will be pausing my regular posts for these next weeks, but for all good reasons. The remaining summer days will be filled with family times, travel times, and more in-depth writing times!
Thank you for your companionship here; I am deeply grateful and honored that you take the time to read and reflect. I hope you will find many gifts and joys in our time “apart”.
I wish for you this lovely blessing from John O’Donohue.1
For Equilibrium, a Blessing:
Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.
As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity by lightened by grace.
Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.
As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.
As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.
As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.
May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of god.
Take care and know that I hold you in my heart.
1John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
Post title, “See You in September” comes from a song of the same name written by Sid Wayne and Sherman Edwards
(Photo by Karen)
A PICTURE AND A POEM: UNEXPECTED
I bemoaned the rusty, broken pipe
discarded on the ground,
but circling to the other side
surprising joy was found.
For flowers are so beautiful
when held in lovely vases,
but they bring great delight when found
in unexpected places.
The splendor of a garden grows
as it is tended, nourished.
Through weeding, watering, daily care
the crops begin to flourish.
But this plant’s determination
as it seeks the sunlight’s rays
reminds me how much we can grow
in unexpected ways.
In quiet nooks and reverent halls
I feel God’s presence near.
In chapels, churches, I can sense
the Holy is right here.
Yes, I’m aware that God is close,
revealing daily graces
but I love when God surprises me
in unexpected places.
(Photos by Karen; waterfall in Conkle’s Hollow, Hocking Hills)
THIS IS THE MOMENT
Several events from this week have prompted today’s reflection…
On this day the sunshine and blue skies are dimmed by the smoke from the Canadian forest fires. I know everyone is deeply concerned for those who are more directly affected: firefighters, animals and habitats, people in surrounding areas, those in poor health. We grieve the immense devastation and exhausting battle.
And earlier, Jim and I learned that a friend had passed from ovarian cancer. She and I had exchanged calls and texts during her months of treatment, as I offered tips and encouragement from my own experience. Over a year ago, she happily texted that she was cancer-free. But last week, she gently informed me that she was entering hospice care.
I had also been journaling about this retirement phase of my life. I’m no longer serving in any leadership role but in smaller, less visible ways. I hope that I’m enabling others to shine, as I help my family, tend our home, connect with friends, and write words of encouragement or comfort. I recently noted my peace and contentment in this quieter life.
Then I learned that our county commissioners were considering an ordinance that clearly targeted the LGTBQIA+ community after a recent Pride event. I could no longer remain behind the scenes, prompted once again to speak publicly of honoring everyone in God’s beautifully diverse creation. The ordinance passed anyway. But as I walked to my car afterward, several folks thanked me, some in tears, for speaking up in love and support for them.
The week reminds me that life is fragile and unpredictable. We will continue to be surprised, grieved, wounded, and challenged by our world, daily living, and one another.
But we have the certainty and availability of this very moment.
This is the moment for us to care, immediately and compassionately.
This is the moment for us to speak, courageously and truthfully.
This is the moment for us to act, selflessly and kindly.
This is the moment for us to unite, lovingly and humbly.
This is the moment for us to love, universally and lavishly.
This is the moment for us to live, faithfully and generously.
This is the moment to help one another through this difficult yet wondrous, hurtful yet beautiful, uncertain yet glorious life.
(Photo by Karen)
A PICTURE AND A POEM: HOLD THIS FOR THE NIGHT
AN EVENING PRAYER
Thank you, God, for this day;
for all it held for me,
the places and the people,
the gifts that came my way.
The sky begins to dim the light.
As I prepare to rest,
I now return my day to you.
Please hold it for the night.
I know your love remains with me.
You’re present in the dark
so I can gently sleep until
the dawn will come to be.
I place my day into your care.
With gratitude I trust
all blessings you will kindly tend,
all burdens you will bear.
You graciously transform, remake
each moment that you hold,
surprising me with bright new gifts
revealed when I awake…
You preserve each happy joy
as a sweet experience.
You glean from tender sorrow
a soft remembrance.
You make a painful moment
into a victory earned.
You form each woe, each regret
into a lesson learned.
You nudge each inspiration
into a serving task.
You ease each daily care into
a deeper trust that lasts.
I now can calmly rest and be.
My day is held secure
and I find one more gift from you:
In peace you now hold me.
(Photo of sunset by Karen)
A PICTURE AND A POEM: THE PRESENCE IN THE PAUSE
When the argument gets heated,
or my debate could be defeated
but I know the words to win it,
prompt me, please, to wait a minute.
Then put your peace into my head
and give me gracious words instead.
Help me refrain from words that rush
to find the holy in the hush.
When I feel sad or lost or lonely,
and when it seems that there is only
my empty soul on barren ground
with eyes and spirit both cast down;
let me feel your consolation
in the midst of desolation.
Go with me in the wilderness
to shine the sacred in the stillness.
When my schedule becomes hurried,
and I then begin to worry
about my deadlines, times, and dates,
I may believe my prayers should wait.
Instead of spending time with you,
I think I’ve “better” things to do.
Please nudge me then to slow my pace
to find the spirit in the space.
In the course of daily living
– laughing, loving, taking, giving –
please help me to remain aware
of your guidance, love, and care.
When I take time to breathe and be
I sense that you are here with me.
My life is rich and full, because
I find your presence in the pause.
(Photo by Karen)
SWITCHBACK WISDOM
As Jim and I hiked up Meek’s Mountain, I was grateful for the switchbacks that helped us gradually climb onward and upward. We would hike in one direction for a while, then turn around in the opposite direction as the trail took us a bit higher up the mountain. Our zig zag pattern meant that the changes in scenery would be negligible, but we would gain elevation and reach the mountaintop without becoming too weary. And yet, there were times when I wanted to leave the path and hike straight up to the hilltop vista! The switchbacks could feel unnecessary and even a bit frustrating.
Does it sometimes seem as if your journey of life is filled with switchbacks?
In my life, there are times when I feel as if a certain issue is finally resolved, and then it arises anew. Or I believe I have learned a lesson, but I revisit it with each new circumstance and awareness. Or I trust that I am making progress toward a goal when a detour directs me backward. Or I decide to change a certain way of living or being, but soon relive the same story on a similar path. At times I have wondered, “Haven’t I been there, done that, learned to do better, left this behind – once and for all?”
But there is wisdom to be found on the switchbacks of our trails and our lives. This learning journey of life can be filled with turn arounds and repeats, but we will always make progress in some way. With each step, we will build strength and rise upward. We will observe the same scene from a higher (and perhaps clearer) viewpoint. We will often discover something that had gone unnoticed before. We will smile when we realize, “Oh, I remember this! I now know a better way to navigate this portion.”
We may wish to conquer the mountains of life as swiftly as possible, to reach and enjoy the peaceful vistas that await at the top, but the longer journeys will give us the opportunity to gain maturity and wisdom, strength and stamina, patience and perseverance on the way. Switchbacks enable us to make gradual progress, to observe more of the beauty around us, to reflect a little longer, to note our progress, and to grow in strength, one step at a time. Incremental growth is still growth. When we finally arrive at the hilltop, the view will feel more significant, joyful, and wondrous because of the many switchbacks we have traveled to get there.
May we then find that the longer journey has added to our joy, the gradual progress has been part of our perfection, and the switchbacks have been essential steps of our sacred story.
(Photos by Karen, Meeks Mountain)
A PICTURE AND A POEM: LEAVES
I stand beneath the cooling shade
of a verdant canopy;
I look up to the heavens
and feel you here with me.
Sunlight shining through the leaves
creates a grand cathedral.
No temple made by human hands
could ever be your equal.
May I absorb your love’s pure light
and become, much like the leaves,
a quiet sanctuary,
where one can live and grow and breathe.
(Photo by Karen)
THOSE FUTILE GRUDGES (AND AREN’T THEY ALL?)
When Jim and I first moved to this area, we noticed a sign posted on a lawn along the main street of our new town. We couldn’t read all the words as we drove by, but we gathered that these folks were angry because something had been stolen from their property. Eventually the sign was removed, but it was replaced by an electronic messaging board mounted to the side of their house. Angry and accusatory messages have continued to stream across it for several years now.
I don’t know these neighbors or their full story, but their long-held grudge and sign seem futile and even silly to me. The sign can’t be readily seen by any passing vehicles, so it mostly serves as a constant, negative reminder for the people who live there. Since nothing has been resolved after all this time, whomever this sign is targeting must be unphased (and perhaps even amused) by the angry words scrolling across the screen. The neighbors’ anger may be justified, but the grudge they carry probably burdens them more than the initial injustice, hurts them more than those who are being accused.
Our anger can be righteous and healthy when it prompts us to act for justice, resolve problems, restore broken relationships, or defend ourselves and others from harm. But if we let our anger simmer into a resentment or grudge, it serves no purpose for good and will only weigh us down (and often, no one else).
As always, this story holds lessons for me. When has my anger become a grudge instead of a good? Today I hope to be more mindful of using my anger for its better purposes. May I seek to turn my frustration into helpful action, my irritation into genuine communication, my inner hurt into gracious forgiveness. May I not continue to complain, whine, resent, or begrudge, but instead, begin to work toward a better answer, a peaceful resolution.
May I also learn to take whatever is left unresolved and entrust it to God.
Giving up the grudge…
Lovingly letting go…
And fully feeling the freedom.
(Photo by Karen, who took a long walk to read the sign. 😏)
A PICTURE AND A POEM: UPON TURNING 67
There is a precious synergy
between my awareness of passing years
and my deepening gratitude for life.
There is a tender vulnerability
that leads to a wider spectrum
of compassionate tears and blissful joy.
There is a gracious enigma
in that my body often feels weary and worn
while my mind remains youthful and curious.
There is an extraordinary beauty
found in the smallest acts of kindness,
both shared and received to make life lovely.
There is a treasured spaciousness
in my heart, from having less and loving more;
in my soul, from doing less and being more.
There is a hopeful wisdom
that has grown through every heartache and trial
because of every eventual resurrection.
There is a sacred reverence
in regarding all of creation as a sanctuary
in which God is present in soil, sea, sky – and soul.
There is a peaceful serenity
in trusting that I am incomplete and yet enough,
that my worth does not come from achievement.
There is a delightful humility
in finding that my increased understanding of God
has only deepened the mystery of God.
There is a gentle comfort
in knowing that my love will remain beyond my life,
and my life will remain beyond all time.
(Photo: Grammy Karen welcoming my most recent grandchild!)
Simply Soul Searching 