A Quiet Walk

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,

I stayed home from church today.  I stayed to make soup with the Holy Spirit. Not just any soup mind you, but my own Vegetable Soup. You know the kind, soup filled with chopped fresh potatoes, celery, carrots, turnips, garlic and shallot and fresh herbs.  All of them carefully chopped up into bit sized pieces.   

There is something comforting about chopping vegetables, watching the pile grow. Each vegetable adding their own special color, fragrance, and appeal to the pile.  Shallots and garlic add their pungent scents, while potatoes add earthiness and carrots and tomatoes add a bit of sweetness. I did notice that the carrot coins kept rolling around the counter as if they wanted to escape. Celery’s spiciness is always appealing to me. I love the color contrast between the red pepper and the parsley it always makes me smile and HS, that’s Holy Spirit for those of you not on speaking terms, said, “my favorite is the hot banana pepper you add in just the right amount to give a bit of heat to the soup. Please don’t tell Jesus that he thinks I’m weird.”  

HS, and I discussed the value of each vegetable and whether or not it was suitable for such a wonderful soup. We pared and peeled when needed and over-all we decided I had picked good vegetables from the market. HS also reminded me that I had some fresh tomatoes that would add a nice bit of freshness. These were the last from my garden, so I offered a prayer and HS blessed them. I mean you can’t have too many prayers or too many blessings, can you?

I then went out into my garden and HS and I picked rosemary, sage and fennel. Thanking each one for their contribution to the soup.  We only took a little of the thyme because it needs to grow a bit more, it’s a bit over picked, and HS said the basil was just too tired and needs to go live with her now. 

HS asked if I had any frozen or canned vegetables available and looking through the freezer, I found a packet of squash and peas adding them to my growing pile of vegetables. In the pantry, I found corn, beans, and garbanzo beans which when rinsed to remove excess salt (who wants that in their soup) added them to the bowl. 

After browning the shallot and garlic, adding chopped fresh turmeric and a couple strands of saffron (yes. I use saffron) I dumped all of the chopped, frozen, and canned veg’s into the pot along with vegetable broth, water, and all of the chopped herbs.  HS asked me “will you be adding the secret ingredient” and I said “Shhh, If I tell it wouldn’t be a secret.”  HS blessed our efforts and our soup is now simmering to wonderful goodness.  We are currently considering baking a loaf of bread.

I suppose you think I am weird, imagining I am cooking alongside the Holy Spirit. Well one, I don’t care what you think, and two, how do you know I wasn’t.  You see I often feel I am not alone, that someone walks beside me, or sits with me as I read. I guess I could be insane, but I rather think that it doesn’t matter.  I sit and meditate, I offer prayers, and they must go somewhere don’t they. So why couldn’t the Holy Spirit come and spend time with me as I cook?

I’m not one to run around and brag or tell people “Jesus saves” (he doesn’t by the way, but I’ll save that thought for later). I rather let what I do and say inform people. I will share this soup with others, guests, (Luke hint, hint) and of course my husband will enjoy our efforts.  I have been known to take soup to those who need it because feeding others always brings a smile to their faces, and mine, besides it is a mandate of the Holy Spirit. 

To create something that will nourishes others is such a wonderful feeling.  To feel the vegetable in your hand, pick it from the ground or vine gives me a connection with all creation. I know where my food comes from, how it was grown I watched the sun shine on the baby plants and the rain water it. I watched as the bees pollinated my tomato blossoms and herb blossoms and we shook the dirt off of potatoes, carrots, and onions, so yes, I know where my food comes from and who to thank. I am grateful for the opportunity to spend time with the HS to offer my thanks for food that feeds my body as her presence feeds my spirit.  So, if I think the Holy Spirit is right there with me in the kitchen it means I know who to thank for all I have received. 

“Ah, Ruth”

“Yes HS”

“Why not share your recipe and a prayer, now that you have made everyone hungry?”

“What a wonderful idea.”

“Ok, here is my Basic Vegetable soup recipe for you to change up and make your own.”

My prayer for you is:

Holy Spirit, we ask you to bless the ground that nourished our vegetables, the sun that shone upon them, and the rain that watered them. Bless the hands that harvested and carried them to us and bless the hands that prepared them.  May this soup bless our bodies as you bless our souls. AMEN

Ruth’s Vegetable Soup
(This recipe freezes well)

4 cups vegetable broth or 2 cups broth and 2 cups water
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter

Vegetables: (all vegetables are optional, add meat if you wish)

Potatoes, diced
Turnips, diced
Carrots (diced), Peas, Corn either Fresh, frozen, or canned
Celery, diced
½ of a small to medium shallot, diced
1-3 garlic cloves, minced,
1 15oz. Can diced tomatoes
1 or 2 medium fresh tomatoes, diced
½ to 1 red pepper, diced
Either 1-3 small hot banana Peppers, or 2 chipotle peppers, (+1 to 2 tsps. adobe sauce), Diced

Spices and Herbs: (change up the herbs to your taste)

1 teaspoon dry Turmeric or 2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh Turmeric
few threads of saffron
1 teaspoon dried thyme or 2 teaspoons fresh thyme
½ teaspoon Herbs de Provence
2 teaspoons fresh rosemary
2 fresh bay leaves
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

Directions:

Melt the oil and butter in a large soup pot, add the onions and garlic. Add the turmeric and saffron, cook until the onions are soft and golden.  Add the celery and peppers to the pot stir until covered in the turmeric liquid.  Add the rest of the vegetables, broth (or broth/water), herbs and spices.  Simmer for 1 to 2 hours until all vegetables are “al dente.”  Serve hot with fresh bread. If you wish top with sharp cheddar cheese and chives.  

Note: This is an easily modified recipe.  You can add squash, or other vegetables, or change herbs or spices (I use Turmeric because of its anti-cancer properties). Fresh Parsley is lovely.  You can add meat to this but I am a vegetarian so that is problematic for me.

Ruth Jewell, ©October 13, 2019

Meister Eckhart’s Book of Secrets, M.S. Burrows & J.M. Sweeney
Hampton Roads Publishing, 2019, pg. 70

Yesterday I received my copy of Meister Eckhart’s Book of Secrets and with some excitement opened the book, to this random page. It took me only a moment to read the few lines of the poem, but a lot longer for the shock to quiet, and the wonder set in. You see there have been more moments in my life than I care to admit that God has offered this prayer for me. This 7-line poem, inspired by Eckhart’s Selected Writings, was an unlooked-for blessing in a moment of need. Because today, you see, I needed to be reminded that God prays for me, that God wants me.

In the hours since I read the poem, I have thought of the many different ways I’ve answered Gods prayer and how many times I’ve ignored it. Over the years I’ve spent time talking to God asking why God would want to be born in me, me, a not so good, not so joyful, not so loving human.  A human filled with anger, frustration, confusion and, I’m just going to say this, hate. What would the Divine Being find worthy in me, despite my constantly ignoring the gift?

I’m afraid, even to this day, I haven’t found a whole lot of answers to my questions for God. Unfortunately, God can be quite silent on the reasons why, but persistent in praying. I guess I will have to be satisfied with knowing God wants me to have grace, especially since I remember many of the strange, wonderful, and mystical moments I have experienced. Before I offer a story that illustrates this, let me digress for just a bit.

The idea that God wants the Spirits grace to belong to me, us, that God prays we will want grace given, full abundant grace, without strings attached, has always felt just a little odd. God’s grace is a gift fit for royal/holy beings, and it is being given to you and me! Why wouldn’t any of us want such a gift? As humans we are used to knowing that nothing in this life is free. There are always strings attached, we may not see them, may not even be aware of them, but they are there. Yet here is the Divine just handing it out, for free.

God says the gift of grace is freely, abundantly given and without the necessity of paying back. To me that means in God’s eyes you and I are royal, holy beings, all we have to do is accept the gift. More importantly God wants to be born within us, to become part of us, and that means you and I become part of God. Now that is an offer we cannot turn down, right. Well we can and do turn it down for many reasons such as stubbornness, stupidity, or more likely fear. To be part of God, part of the creator, means we are partners in creation, and that means we are responsible for the care and wellbeing of creation and each other. That means we are to care for the weak, the young, the elderly, the stranger whether they are like us or not. So, yes all of us have turned God down, repeatably. The thing is God keeps asking, God never gives up on us. That is the God I know, a God who keeps trying, and keeps asking no matter how scared, stubborn, or stupid we might be.

Pride can be both a good and a bad trait, unfortunately for me pride is not always the best trait to have. Thirty or so years ago I thought I knew it all, I didn’t need God in my life, I didn’t need anyone, and, in my arrogance, I chose to do some things I’m now not very proud of. I didn’t break the law, but I hurt people who had trusted me. When I came to my senses, I realized somethings had to change but I wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. Life can be funny sometimes and in one of those moments I had an experience that changed how I saw myself, my relationship with the Divine, and my relationship with the rest of creation. So, here is the first time I found God’s grace freely given.

As a graduate student at the University of Houston School of Public Health I often had the opportunity to go along with the biologists on bird banding trips in the Gulf of Mexico. We would band baby gulls and terns in the morning and then spend a couple of hours swimming in the gulf before returning to school. On this occasion I was floating along, I don’t swim so I was simply bobbing along while wearing a life vest, I was enjoying the warm water and the sun when I felt something brush against my leg. I looked down into the water and couldn’t see anything, so I thought I was imagining it when I felt it again.  My friend called from the boat and told me to be very still and hold my hand out at the surface of the water.  I didn’t know why I should, but I did.

To my amazement a fin appeared under my hand and a dolphin rose up and pulled me along in the water. I looked into the water and there were 3 or 4 dolphins swimming around me. At first, they moved me away from the boat and just let me “ride” against them. I could hear clicks and squeaks and they seemed to want to talk to me.  So, I talked to them, I was told later for about 15 to 20 minutes, which seemed to pass like seconds. For some unknown reason I told them about my fears, how confused I was, and how unkind I’d been. Amazingly they moved in closer and seemed to “hug” me, the air around me took on a golden color and I felt something within I had never felt before. Slowly they guided me back to our boat and sank into the gulf. Before I knew it, I was being pulled from the water. My friends told me they had never seen anything like it before. I, on the hand, seemed to be in this bubble of serenity. For the rest of the trip friends told me I had this rather goofy smile on my face.

I can’t say that everything was wonderful following that experience but, inside I felt a wall come down and the Divine stepping in. Life is still life, and not all events are perfect, but I found that letting go and letting someone else lead me gave me a new perspective on how to live my life. God’s prayer that I would want the grace given, that I would welcome the birth of God within had been answered that day. There have been other moments when I have forgotten the God within. But after going my own way and needing to be reminded as to who I am, who I belonged to, I would renew my relationship with God. I have found this is an ongoing process for me and suspect it is for everyone. But that moment in the Gulf of Mexico was the first time, and a special moment that has helped me recognize God’s presence, and God’s reminders.

When I opened my copy of this book of poems and saw this prayer it made me smile, it made my memories smile, it made me open my arms and once again welcome God. If nothing else this little prayer has made the whole book worthwhile. I desired God’s grace. I opened my heart and God has moved in. I am part of God, God is part of me, I am God’s partner in this amazing creative universe. I pray I am a good part (at least most of the time). Now my prayer for you:

May you desire God’s grace,
grace freely, abundantly, given,
so that God will be born within you.
Amen

Ruth Jewell, ©September 25, 2019

Photo from the Clergy Coaching Network, September 23, 2019

I wonder if one of religions biggest difficulty is that we cannot respond to joy. We remember and celebrate our failures but do not remember or celebrate our successes. In the Hebrew bible it is the battles that are recorded not the moments of peace. In the Christian New Testament, it is the pain and sorrow that is highlighted not the holding of a child or the details of the wedding.  We live a joyless faith.

Yes, there are moments in scripture where joy can be found but if you stack them up against the moments of violence you will discover that violence tips the scale.  In Christianity the most important holiday is Easter, the resurrection, but it is Maundy Thursday, and “Good” Friday that receives the press. The return of Jesus must have been incredibly wonderful, people must have been overjoyed. But that is not what we hear.

 Why are the happy times, the good times not news? Today the only things on news shows of any kind are who killed who, who challenges who for power, who hates who.  That is not the world I want to live in, but it appears that is the world we have created from the very beginning.

Violence seems to be hardwired into who we are. Our earliest ancestors survived on meat killed by their own hand or by other predators. I get that, I understand the need to eat and feed our families, but there is always a but isn’t there, the vast majority of humans don’t need to kill to eat. Most of us can go down to the local market and get what we need.  Yes, food inequality exists, and it does so because we have people who feel they are the only ones and “hoard” resources.  There are enough resources on this planet to feed every man, woman, and child without letting anyone suffer, or go hungry.

We have that inequality because we have people who claim ownership to more than they need and we have others who will fight, even kill, to get their share. Not a pretty picture of humanity, the supposed children of God. The prophets, Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammad all tried to change us from petty, hording, selfish people. We haven’t listened, we continue to be selfish, we continue to champion and celebrate hate and violence, and we continue to destroy the planet we live on for our selfish, violent ends.  

But, again with the but, If, just if, we imagined a world where violence didn’t exist what would it look like? What if we celebrated the joy of life lived with each other, what if we celebrated the joy of living on a planet that is amazingly beautiful and filled with joy? How would that world look like, what would we look like? What would our communities look like? You know I can’t imagine it because I have no words for that kind of joy, that kind of celebration, that kind of love. Imagination doesn’t need a written word, but it does need visual ones and within our human existence there are no words, visual or written, that can describe that kind of life. That makes me sad, very sad.

So much of our lives are made up of survival, of protecting ourselves from what is outside our door that we have forgotten life in the “Garden” where fear and hate and struggle were unknown.  I hope we never make it to the stars or find people on other planets because we in our infinitely violent, stupid, selfish ways would destroy them.

All of this doesn’t mean we should stop recognizing suffering and be modern day Pollyanna’s. No that isn’t what this all about, rather it’s about ignoring the good in this world, pushing it aside to revel in sorrow, in violence, in pain, and in hate.  When we push joy aside and only focus on the non-joy (is that a word?) we make our lives smaller and we choose to live lives that are less significant.

We are approaching what should be a time of great joy in the Church calendar. Advent and Christmas should be a time filled with joy of anticipation of new life. We should be celebrating what will come from welcoming the joy of the Eternal Holy Spirits gifts. We won’t though will we? I have grown to hate Advent and Christmas because I see too much selfishness, a selfishness that locks out most of the world’s poor from a share in that joy. At this time of the year we share with those less privileged and then forget about them for the rest of the year. At this time of the year we give, often abundantly, not as an act of grace, but to clean our souls. Jesus taught the joy of giving from our abundance was supposed to happen all year long, every day, every hour. Somehow, we’ve forgotten that.

We humans are the youngest of the species on this planet and unless we change how we view the world we will not survive to be the oldest, and we will take the rest of creation with us.  I hope that will not be the legacy of the sad, strange species called Homo sapiens, sapiens, my fear is it will be.

Ruth Jewell, ©September 23, 2019

In the morning dark,
In stillness, in solitude,
I wait for you, O God.

Your breath touches my Cheek
Time stands still as I sit
Resting in your presence.

My heart speaks of fear, of loss,
My soul cries because
All has gone wrong.

Your presence comforts me,
You take my pain,
My sorrow, and my tears.

As dawn’s light returns
My heart leaps, my soul breaths anew
I am not alone for you stand with me.

Ruth Jewell, ©July 31, 2019
Image: Kauai, Hi, 2017, ©Ruth Jewell

(“The miracle is this: the more we share the more we have.” 
~ Leonard Nimoy)

If you wish to be rich, Love.
Love a child, love a spouse, love your parents,
love a dog or cat or some other companion animal,
love the mountains, love plains,
love the waters of the earth, love the desert,
love the wind, love the stars,
love the animals of the earth,
love the animals of the sea and air,
love yesterday and today and tomorrow,
love the cities, love the farms,
love the poor, love the rich
love the good, love the evil
love justice, love peace, love compassion and mercy,
above all love God.
If you love these, you are rich indeed.

~ Ruth Jewell, ©July 26, 2019

For awhile now I have had this inner turmoil about the immigrants coming to our southern border with hopes of finding a better life here in the U.S. only to find hate, guns, abuse, and separated families at the gate. With our nation’s birthday happening in a few days I have been thinking about the quote of Emma Lazarus’ poem, The New Colossus, found on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

I am afraid the “golden door” is no more, it has turned black, rotted through, and replaced with an AK‑47.  

Nothing in my experience has prepared me for a father and his young daughter, trying to find a safe haven, drowning on the doorstep of this country. Nothing in my experience has prepared me for the separation of families at the border, children from new-born to teenagers placed in concentration camps where they are physically, mentally, and sexually abused.

As a student of history, I know how the Indigenous people were treated, I know how slavery turned people into non-humans. But I had thought we, as a nation, had grown beyond such bias and racist mentality.  Yes, I know, I am wrong. Yes, I know that underneath a very thin façade of politeness there has always been people who boil with anger and hate. But a girl can hope, can’t she?

White people, white old men who were afraid of losing God knows what came out of the woodwork with hate and violence claiming they were somehow better, more valuable, than people of color, the poor, the disabled, and the homeless. They blame anyone different from them for all their troubles.  It doesn’t make any difference that what that trouble might be, it’s not their fault.

It is time for those of us descended from white Europeans to stop being hypocrites and accept the responsibility for the historical abuse and death of anyone not white. The privilege we claim as our right was never given to us; we stole it from those who could not fight back.

Since the beginning of time humans have been a violent species, a greedy species, a selfish species.  It may be that we are incapable of being compassionate, merciful, and lovers of justice and peace. It may be that hate of those who are different is hardwired into our psyche’s. I most certainly hope that is not true. I am praying that our bloated species can change, find a new way to live in harmony with each other and with the natural world. 

Nearly every prophet from all sacred faiths have tried to teach us how to be one with each other. As a follower of Christ, I try to remember what Jesus said to his disciples just before his arrest and crucifixion:

34 . . .‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35 for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38 And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39 And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ 40 And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ – Matthew 25:34-40

That seems pretty clear to me. It plainly states how we are to treat the disadvantaged, and where did he learn this. Why from His scripture. Because God sent many prophets to teach the Israelites how to treat each other and those who were strangers in their land. Even before the Hebrews left Mt. Sinai God tells them:

“33 When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. 34 The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God. “
 – Leviticus 19:33

And did the Hebrew people listen? Of course not and over the centuries prophets came along with the same message.  So, a thousand years later, as Jerusalem is besieged the Lord tells Zechariah pretty much what Moses told them:

9 Thus says the Lord of hosts: Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another; 10 do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another. – Zechariah 7:9-10

And did the Israelites listen? Of course not. Jerusalem fell and the rulers and wealthy were packed off to Babylon. This is a small piece of the greater history where one tribe failed to listen and learn. The sad fact is no tribes, communities, cultures, or nations have ever learned from their prophets that treating each and every person in their communities fairly, honestly, with compassion, mercy and justice is how they would succeed as nations.  We in the United States are no different.

As a nation, a world, and as a species we stand at a crossroad. Too many nations hold in their hands the means of destroying all humanity, along with every other living thing on this planet. Unless all of us, in every nation change how we treat the least of us so that every living thing on this old earth has what they need to thrive and survive we will face extinction. 

Why is it so hard to give out of our abundance to those in need? It shouldn’t be. If our neighbor has enough to eat, a place to sleep, the means to thrive and succeed then we benefit as well.  If we learn to live with the natural world treating other species with respect and making sure they have what they need we will benefit as well. If we treat the earth with respect, learning to live in our habitat without destroying it then we benefit.  Why is that so hard?

We share DNA with every living thing, human, non-human, and plant, we are them and they are us.  We share the building blocks of our cells with the mountains, sea, air, and the soil, we are them and they are us. We are the poor. We are the homeless. We are the other.  Yes, each of us is different and that is a good thing. But, we share more than we are different.

I have led you all on a rant and rave, I wish I felt better letting of steam, but I don’t. I am not a fortuneteller and I can’t predict how the world will turn out.  I am old enough that I am certain that my fears will not be answered in my lifetime. But they will in my, our, grandchildren’s time and I pray we finally learn to “love one another as we love ourselves.”

Ruth Jewell, © July 1, 2019

Today the Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II will be joined by members of the Poor Peoples Campaign to demand justice from the Trump Administration. My thoughts and prayers go with them because this administration has no respect for the poor or disadvantaged. We have seen in the deserts of the Southwest how they have criminalized compassion and, as a result, I do not expect Dr. Barber or the Poor Peoples Campaign to be welcomed with compassion. I offer this prayer for their safety and that closed hearts will be opened.

WE COME THIS DAY

We come this day to the Father,
We come this day to the Son,
We come to the Holy Spirit powerful;
We come this day with God,
We come this day with Christ,
We come with the Spirit of love and kindness.

We come this day to open closed hearts to the Creator,
We come this day to heal wounded hearts of hate and fear,
We come this day to heal the blind, to see Jesus in our brother, our sister,
We come this day to set the fire of holiness in each other.
We come this day to shout God’s words of justice, mercy and compassion.

God, and Spirit, and Jesus,
From the crown of our heads
To the soles of our feet;
We come with our reputation,
We come with our testimony,
We come to you, Jesus;
Jesus, guide us, shelter us. AMEN

-Adapted by Ruth Jewell, June 11, 2019

Ruth Jewell, ©June 11, 2019

Over the years I have practiced many different types of meditations.  However, in the last year or so my meditation time has become erratic, as a result so has my well-being. So I recently began to meditate again, and being the crazy person I am, I volunteered to lead a six-week Centering Prayer session at my church, Queen Anne Christian Church.  Which has me working really hard to re‑integrate prayer into my daily schedule.  You would think that wouldn’t be hard for me as I am retired and haven’t many obligations outside my home.  I should have plenty of time right. But never underestimate the power of procrastination or the ability of a retired person to fill up their days. Besides, I’ve done this before, this should be easy, right, NOT.

The process of Centering Prayer isn’t difficult, but it is hard, and I know that’s a contradiction. I have learned it is harder to give up control and enter into a meaningful and restful prayer time than it is to read about it.  There is a reason such prayers are called “practice” because that is what you have to do. Our post‑modern minds resist the act of sitting in silence and letting go of daily matters, it wants to control our time, and it will fight back when we do practice a meditative prayer. A minds rebellion takes the form of “monkey mind” or having the inner voice inside of our head keep up a running chatter and we can’t get quiet in order in meditator. This is where that annoying word “practice” comes in.

Practice is the only way shut down the chatter, when you finally succeed then you will experience the quiet that allows you to ‘hear’, feel the presence of God?  One thing I do when I am starting, or restarting, a new meditation practice is to limit the length of time I meditate. Currently I am only meditating for 20 minutes at a time. Any longer and I can’t keep day to day, mundane things from intruding. In centering prayer, you select a word or short phrase, repeating it softly to help focus the prayer and settle the mind. I admit to making good use of my centering word in fact, when I first restarted my centering prayer, I think I spent the whole 20 minutes saying it and still the day’s trivia called to me.

One addition to my prayer time is helping me along.  I am holding my Chihuahua’s as I meditate. Their soft breathing /snores, and warm, soft bodies provides an extra barrier to daily interruptions.  I know many can’t hold a pet, but, if you have a pet you can hold or have sit near you, they are a comfort. 

Esmerelda and Louis

  If you live with someone they can, and often do, become an obstacle to meditative prayer.  You need to spend in prayer should be a quiet time, with no distractions. However, when there is someone else you need, or wants, will intrude on your quiet time, especially when you have children.  Husbands, wives, and children often don’t understand why you want to sit in silence and have time alone for 20 or so minutes. It is not just yourself who must work to enter into a rhythm of daily prayer, your family also has to know about, understand and accept that for 20 or 30 minutes a day you are unavailable. That is, unless someone breaks a bone or is bleeding, I end my meditation for those. We all have those events we cannot nor should ignore and that is perfectly OK.  After all prayer time isn’t something we have to do, it something we want to do and enjoy while we do it.  I have found that setting up a space designated for my prayer/meditation time.  I have a table, candles, a chair with a soft blanket and a dog bed for my meditation partners. It’s one of my favorite places.  

Those are my struggles with centering prayer. I’m sure others will experience different issues. I know many who struggle with “monkey mind,” and I have troubles with monkey mind as well. Over time, with practice, I have been able to somewhat quiet the babble in my head. It will happen for you as well, just don’t dwell on it and realize that it is a normal response when starting meditation.

If any of you practice a contemplative spiritual practice or are starting one, I send you my prayers for peace, silence, joy, and rest.  May you find your moment with the Holy Spirit.

Ruth Jewell, ©June 3, 2019

Thomas where were you when Jesus came?
What was so important
you couldn’t stay for a while longer?

Did you have to do that all important
laundry, or groceries, or maybe clean a closet?
What could have drawn you away?
I know how it is to have all those tasks
to always have no time to finish those all important tasks.

I understand you Thomas
I am like you, . . .
to busy to stop
to busy to listen
to busy to wait

You won’t believe unless you see
you must feel the wounds to have faith
Oh so like you am I . . .
I too wasn’t there to see and touch the master
and sometimes I find it hard to believe,
to just have faith.

It took you the touch of the Master to believe
I have the words he spoke to my heart to believe
It took you putting your hands in his wounds to believe
I have his love warming my spirit to believe
I have not seen the Master as you have done
But I have seen the Master in the face of a newborn child,
in the morning sunrise and evening sunset,
Yes I’ve seen the Master, for the he is all around me
If you weren’t so busy you would see the Master too

Ruth Jewell, ©April 23, 2019

Doubting Thomas, 1634
Rembrandt Harmensz. van Rijn 1606 – 1669, Pushkin Museum, Moscow
%d bloggers like this: