From "Common Prayer - A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals", this wisdom about contemplative prayer:
"Over and over Scripture invites us to abide in God. To rest in God. To dwell in God. More than fifty times, Paul repeats the phrase "in Christ". Contemplative prayer is not just about activity and speaking, but also about listening and resting in God. Many of us have grown up thinking of prayer as a checklist of requests to God, like giving a grocery list to someone headed to the supermarket. As one kid said, "I'm off to pray - does anyone need anything?" Prayer is certainly about sharing our concerns and frustrations with God. God is personal enough to come down and wrestle in the dirt with Jacob or answer Abraham's pleading on behalf of Sodom and Gomorrah. Still, contemplative prayer goes deeper .... Prayer is less about trying to get God to do something we want God to do and more about getting ourselves to do what God wants us to do and to become who God wants us to become. There are times when we speak, weep, groan and shout at God. But there are also times when we simply sit in silence and are held by our Beloved .... The monks have been known to say, "If your speaking doesn't add something beautiful to the silence, don't speak." For many of us in the high-paced, cluttered world of materialism and noise, silence is a way we can free up the space to listen to God."
Silence. Doesn't happen often. And when it does, I think "what do I do now?" Or I let my mind wander. And even when it's "devotion" time for me, there's so often still noise in my head - things I need to do afterwards, things I want to request from God, things I'm struggling with. But I do know that the times I have actually really felt a true sense of devotion were the times that I sat quietly, and one by one pushed each thought away, just like apparently Teresa of Avila did when she prayed, not fighting the thoughts, but letting them recede like waves. Here comes another thought - don't dwell on it, but gently move it to the side - "not now". A gentle, but persistent meditative action, focusing on nothing, not because in the nothing I will find myself, but because in the nothing I will find my God.
Meditation. Many Christians are frightened of that word. But I really think that when we give in to being frightened of meditation, Satan laughs and chalks another one up to himself. It's like we've given meditation over to him. Which is just what he wants. If we don't dare to slow ourselves down in meditation, we are less likely to find that place where we are able to rest in God. Meditation doesn't belong to New Age, or to Buddha, or whatever! It belongs to the beginning of time, and the creator of all. When I take time to quiet myself, to meditate, I am humbling myself and bring glory to God. I am gently pushing aside all those things that that I think are so important, and letting God be first, just for a few moments. And maybe then the practice will train me to put him first for all my moments ....
Psalm 131: "My heart is not proud, O Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me. O Alice, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore."
Thursday, 3 October 2013
Saturday, 28 September 2013
Praying over my neighbourhood
We live in the country. A beautiful old farmhouse, an acre of property. Room for a dog, two cats, four chickens, and a pot bellied pig. We've been living here for about 7 1/2 years, the house is still not "done", but the living is good.
Today I am sitting on our front porch. A little thing with a rocking chair, under a juliette balcony. The road is fairly busy with traffic, there's construction happening across the field. Not much else. We don't see many people around here, though there are neighbours. There are about four houses to our right, across the field. Across the road to our right another four or so. To the left, an intersection with a gas station and a "hamlet" worth of houses. Across the field at the back, some more houses, with a new one being built. Over the road and straight across, a bunch of million dollar homes being built.
Our church is situated in Hamilton right downtown. As a church, we have a strong mission focus, with a lot of thought to community interaction, and our family agrees with the importance of this focus. Often that makes our family think about moving back to Hamilton. Moving to a "real" neighbourhood, allowing for more interaction. We have friends who are involved in Move In, and that is very intriguing and in many ways appealing to us. We do love people, and interaction, and community.
But here we are. In our farmhouse, in the country. What does God want from us here? Of course, we could move. And we'll do it, if it seems like that is what God wants. But right now he doesn't seem to making that clear to us. So what do we do here?
I sit on our porch and know one thing I can do. One powerful and beautiful thing. I can pray. I can pray for Patricia, who owns the land around us. Whose husband died a year ago and who is left alone to work out his dreams of developing the land, one field at a time. I can pray for the families who have bought properties from her, who are building their "dream" homes, and then seeing their dreams shatter in marriage issues (yes, we hear about this, as the houses which have just been built go up for sale), and realization that money can't buy happiness. I can pray for our soon-to-be-neighbour Ivana who is building her home across the back field, who is older and single and so eager to move in, she says, so that our children can garden with her and bring her eggs and cookies. I can pray for the people down the road who have just begun a walking routine, possibly to deal with health issues that have set in at their later stage of life. I can pray for Kevin and his family, as they settle in to life in the country a few houses down from us after having moved from east Hamilton, and as his two children go through college and university. I can pray for neighbours who we never seem to see, but who are there and living before the face of God as we all are - that they may know they are living before him, and may reckon with that.
Just this morning I helped friends move from one house to another, on the same street in downtown Hamilton. Their neighbours watched, we smiled and greeted each other. I could live there. I could meet people, interact with them, be part of their lives. But I am here, and God has a big task for me here too. Yes, less interaction, but maybe more emphasis on God's all-powerful, all-knowing hand. All I can do here is pray. I can't do much to get my hands involved. Or stick my nose in my neighbours' business. Maybe that's God's idea of teaching me something. Reminding me that he is the powerful one, and I need to rely on his power more, and my own less.
Today I am sitting on our front porch. A little thing with a rocking chair, under a juliette balcony. The road is fairly busy with traffic, there's construction happening across the field. Not much else. We don't see many people around here, though there are neighbours. There are about four houses to our right, across the field. Across the road to our right another four or so. To the left, an intersection with a gas station and a "hamlet" worth of houses. Across the field at the back, some more houses, with a new one being built. Over the road and straight across, a bunch of million dollar homes being built.
Our church is situated in Hamilton right downtown. As a church, we have a strong mission focus, with a lot of thought to community interaction, and our family agrees with the importance of this focus. Often that makes our family think about moving back to Hamilton. Moving to a "real" neighbourhood, allowing for more interaction. We have friends who are involved in Move In, and that is very intriguing and in many ways appealing to us. We do love people, and interaction, and community.
But here we are. In our farmhouse, in the country. What does God want from us here? Of course, we could move. And we'll do it, if it seems like that is what God wants. But right now he doesn't seem to making that clear to us. So what do we do here?
I sit on our porch and know one thing I can do. One powerful and beautiful thing. I can pray. I can pray for Patricia, who owns the land around us. Whose husband died a year ago and who is left alone to work out his dreams of developing the land, one field at a time. I can pray for the families who have bought properties from her, who are building their "dream" homes, and then seeing their dreams shatter in marriage issues (yes, we hear about this, as the houses which have just been built go up for sale), and realization that money can't buy happiness. I can pray for our soon-to-be-neighbour Ivana who is building her home across the back field, who is older and single and so eager to move in, she says, so that our children can garden with her and bring her eggs and cookies. I can pray for the people down the road who have just begun a walking routine, possibly to deal with health issues that have set in at their later stage of life. I can pray for Kevin and his family, as they settle in to life in the country a few houses down from us after having moved from east Hamilton, and as his two children go through college and university. I can pray for neighbours who we never seem to see, but who are there and living before the face of God as we all are - that they may know they are living before him, and may reckon with that.
Just this morning I helped friends move from one house to another, on the same street in downtown Hamilton. Their neighbours watched, we smiled and greeted each other. I could live there. I could meet people, interact with them, be part of their lives. But I am here, and God has a big task for me here too. Yes, less interaction, but maybe more emphasis on God's all-powerful, all-knowing hand. All I can do here is pray. I can't do much to get my hands involved. Or stick my nose in my neighbours' business. Maybe that's God's idea of teaching me something. Reminding me that he is the powerful one, and I need to rely on his power more, and my own less.
Monday, 16 September 2013
Me weak - God strong
1 Corinthians 12:9 is a great place to start my blog. "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness". I heard something like that in my heart of hearts on Sunday morning when I was in church, sort of doing my best to give my all to God in worship, but sort of wallowing in my disappointment because the dress I had planned to wear today was too tight across my butt to call a fit anymore.
Let me put things in perspective. I have never really had to diet in my life. Well, I have had times of slightly more "big-ness" in between the births of my four babies. I definitely wasn't always pleased with the way my body looked during those years, and asked for a lot of confirmation from my husband during that time. Which he gave, willingly, truthfully, and lovingly. But since our fourth was born, things levelled out again, and as the children got older, I was even able to start working on fitness. I took up running, which culminated in the completion of a full marathon last year in November. I also spent a year's membership at the local gym. So I was in pretty peak body shape that year. And I liked it. My husband did too :-). Probably mostly because I liked it. It made me happy. I felt pretty good about my physical self.
A few factors came together during and after my marathon that caused me to get off the running and fitness wagon: I'd started a full time job; I had a tough time completing the marathon because my body couldn't hold enough calories etc. to carry me safely through; I'd checked that bucket list item off; it was winter, and way too cold to spend much time outside. You know, those excuses, that are all very valid. So I quit running. I had no time to go to the gym either. No exercise, pretty much at all. Before my running phase, I was never much of a fitness person. Just the regular walking and doing of life was enough to keep me in pretty good shape, and my inefficient digestive system kept things moving through quickly and from settling too badly around my body. Yep, I'd never had to worry about my shape, and on the whole I was always pretty pleased with what I saw when I stood sideways and looked in the mirror.
Here's the big "then", or the "but". Actually, it's the big "butt". Since starting at my office job, and doing away with exercising, my butt has begun to grow. And my stomach won't lay as flat anymore. You know what - many people would say "what are you talking about?", "what are you complaining about??" because I'm not big at all by so many standards. But I'm not referring to anyone else. I'm just talking about me. I'm 15 pounds bigger than I was 12 months ago, and that's hard for me. I don't feel like "me". Or maybe more accurately, I don't like the new "me". And so, as I had to face the fact that a dress that fit me perfectly well a year ago, even a few months ago, now no longer does, I was faced with the dread of a new reality.
My wonderful, supportive husband had some wise thoughts to share. First - "there's more of you to love"; another "I love you just the way you are"; then, when those weren't working "let's go for a walk together once a week", and "I heard that walking backwards is really good for the gluteus maximus" (which we later found out it isn't, actually). But I didn't really want his wise words. Because I have this niggling feeling that there's another thing going on here. Something people only really speak about in whispers. Age. I'm heading for the ripe old age of forty, and I think my body is realizing it. I never will be what I was again - there's a new reality on its way ....
And so I pouted as I sat and stood and sang in church. And then I heard a still, small voice saying something deep inside. Something like "I must become weak, so that God will be strong". And I thought - maybe God is trying to get back to his rightful place in me. Maybe I have been putting myself too high, and my God too low. When I look too often at myself in the mirror, and admire the flatness of my stomach (now past) and the shapeliness of my legs (yes, dumb, hey?), I've been messing with my relationship with God. Yes, I know God wants us to take care of our bodies, and healthy fitness habits result in healthy emotions, etc. But there is easily such a thing as trusting too much in self, focusing too much on me. Pretending to rely on God's strength, but really resting in my own. Relying on God for some things, but not making him my All in All.
I need to work on letting go of myself, and seeing God for who he is. Putting myself to the side and letting him be All powerful. Letting myself be weak, so that I can revel in the true experience of his Grace.
Spirit - change me! Yes, if that means a new physical reality for me, so that it sinks in, help me to accept that, and rejoice in even that.
Let me put things in perspective. I have never really had to diet in my life. Well, I have had times of slightly more "big-ness" in between the births of my four babies. I definitely wasn't always pleased with the way my body looked during those years, and asked for a lot of confirmation from my husband during that time. Which he gave, willingly, truthfully, and lovingly. But since our fourth was born, things levelled out again, and as the children got older, I was even able to start working on fitness. I took up running, which culminated in the completion of a full marathon last year in November. I also spent a year's membership at the local gym. So I was in pretty peak body shape that year. And I liked it. My husband did too :-). Probably mostly because I liked it. It made me happy. I felt pretty good about my physical self.
A few factors came together during and after my marathon that caused me to get off the running and fitness wagon: I'd started a full time job; I had a tough time completing the marathon because my body couldn't hold enough calories etc. to carry me safely through; I'd checked that bucket list item off; it was winter, and way too cold to spend much time outside. You know, those excuses, that are all very valid. So I quit running. I had no time to go to the gym either. No exercise, pretty much at all. Before my running phase, I was never much of a fitness person. Just the regular walking and doing of life was enough to keep me in pretty good shape, and my inefficient digestive system kept things moving through quickly and from settling too badly around my body. Yep, I'd never had to worry about my shape, and on the whole I was always pretty pleased with what I saw when I stood sideways and looked in the mirror.
Here's the big "then", or the "but". Actually, it's the big "butt". Since starting at my office job, and doing away with exercising, my butt has begun to grow. And my stomach won't lay as flat anymore. You know what - many people would say "what are you talking about?", "what are you complaining about??" because I'm not big at all by so many standards. But I'm not referring to anyone else. I'm just talking about me. I'm 15 pounds bigger than I was 12 months ago, and that's hard for me. I don't feel like "me". Or maybe more accurately, I don't like the new "me". And so, as I had to face the fact that a dress that fit me perfectly well a year ago, even a few months ago, now no longer does, I was faced with the dread of a new reality.
My wonderful, supportive husband had some wise thoughts to share. First - "there's more of you to love"; another "I love you just the way you are"; then, when those weren't working "let's go for a walk together once a week", and "I heard that walking backwards is really good for the gluteus maximus" (which we later found out it isn't, actually). But I didn't really want his wise words. Because I have this niggling feeling that there's another thing going on here. Something people only really speak about in whispers. Age. I'm heading for the ripe old age of forty, and I think my body is realizing it. I never will be what I was again - there's a new reality on its way ....
And so I pouted as I sat and stood and sang in church. And then I heard a still, small voice saying something deep inside. Something like "I must become weak, so that God will be strong". And I thought - maybe God is trying to get back to his rightful place in me. Maybe I have been putting myself too high, and my God too low. When I look too often at myself in the mirror, and admire the flatness of my stomach (now past) and the shapeliness of my legs (yes, dumb, hey?), I've been messing with my relationship with God. Yes, I know God wants us to take care of our bodies, and healthy fitness habits result in healthy emotions, etc. But there is easily such a thing as trusting too much in self, focusing too much on me. Pretending to rely on God's strength, but really resting in my own. Relying on God for some things, but not making him my All in All.
I need to work on letting go of myself, and seeing God for who he is. Putting myself to the side and letting him be All powerful. Letting myself be weak, so that I can revel in the true experience of his Grace.
Spirit - change me! Yes, if that means a new physical reality for me, so that it sinks in, help me to accept that, and rejoice in even that.
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