My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this,
you will lead me by the right road
thought I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always
through I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my struggles alone.
by Melodius Monk
“We as followers of Christ don’t have some kind of special super power. We are not the spiritually elite. We just have the authority to show up. To show up and proclaim the nearness of God that scatters the darkness. And we can show up for life and for each other and for the world because what we need for healing and sustenance is always the same as the simple, ordinary things right in front of us—that’s just the way God works.“ -Nadia Bolz Weber
Early this morning, I was reading the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 and already knowing the end, I started losing focus when surprisingly the story grabbed my imagination—as if to say, “don’t be so bored”—I have more to teach you. “Jesus then took the loaves and gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted.”
And I started thinking of Nadia’s quote in relation to being seated. Being seated is simple un-profound, and not hard to do. The people with Jesus that day simply had to show up, sit, and Jesus did the rest.
Daily I’m crying out to Jesus, where are you? What are you saying to me? Why can’t I find more answers? I want more assuredness from God, more peace, more answers, less doubt. I assume I must need to do more of “something” to gain access to God.
Sitting can be challenging. It feels unproductive, a little boring, vulnerable and uncomfortable. Yet I need not run, hide, or try to produce, but simply sit and take in what God puts right in front of me today.
Perhaps in the rootedness of staying put, we open ourselves to the possibility to receive from a God who wishes to give us as much goodness as we dare to want.
By Sister Spero
Some of the sisters in my Convent are members of a choir. I’ve noticed that they hear things that I don’t—the singing of a bird in the distance, the vibrations of a jackhammer, someone clearing his throat. It’s not that I am hard of hearing; it’s that my ear is not trained to listen in the same way. One choir member told me, “We have to listen acutely to the other singers so we can blend.” Listening is part of the spiritual life, too. It takes practice to listen interiorly for God’s direction. This explains to me why some people seem to hear so clearly. They have trained their inner ear through habitual prayer. I find this encouraging. No one (including me) can really say, “I can’t hear God,” and stop there. But we can say, “I haven’t listened hard enough, and I’m going to keep listening until my ear is trained.”