Something stirred from deep within. I felt it knocking, begging to be acknowledged and released. I could not put a name to it, but something felt awakened after a long period of dormancy. In truth, this gnawing sensation had been building for more than a year, but on the levee that day, I grappled with this powerful presence at work in me. I had no words for the hunger that was asking me for more. All I could do was attempt to be still and acknowledge its existence. Continue reading “Desert Day 41: Be Still, My Restless Soul …”
Jesus answered her, “Everyone who drinks this water will become thirsty again. But those who drink the water that I will give them will never become thirsty again. In fact, the water I will give them will become in them a spring that gushes up to eternal life.
— John 4: 13-14
And the well runs dry. It’s one of the most common experiences in the spiritual life. A practice that we have cherished, a habit that has deepened us and drawn us closer to God, a discipline that we perhaps have engaged in for years no longer seems to work. Gradually over time or overnight with no warning, its familiar contours turn foreign, dull, perhaps even painful.
These times call us to some of our deepest discernment. They dare us to ask, Am I being called to go deeper in this practice, to persist, to keep digging toward the wellspring that surely must be here somewhere? Am I being invited to wait and to listen? Or is God leading me toward a different practice than the one I have known? Continue reading “Desert Day 20: When The Well Runs Dry …”
The Spirit of God breathes everywhere within you, just as in the beginning, filling light place and dark…green earth and dry…. God’s love grows, fullness upon fullness, where you crumble enough to give what is most dear. Your earth.
— Joan Sauro from Whole Earth Meditation
Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness.
The season of Lent calls us into a landscape. Though the imagery of wilderness is dominant in Lent, this is not the primary terrain that this season invites us to enter. Continue reading “Desert Day 12: Where The Breath Begins …”
In the dew of little things, the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
— Kahlil Gibran from The Prophet
God is as available and accessible as the very thing we all do constantly—breathe.
― Richard Rohr from The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics
It helps to realize that the sun never stops shining, no matter the variety and constancy of the clouds that drift and enclose us.
― Mark Nepo from The Endless Practice: Becoming Who You Were Born to Be
There is a secret place. A radiant sanctuary. As real as your own kitchen. More real than that. Constructed of the purest elements. Overflowing with the ten thousand beautiful things. Worlds within worlds. Forests, rivers. Velvet coverlets thrown over featherbeds, fountains bubbling beneath a canopy of stars. Continue reading “Magnificent Refuge (A Winter Reflection) …”
What if this was the moment in which you recognized your infinite and glorious magnificence?
The radiant light of your very soul.
What if today was the day that you stopped all longing for what is past help and past grief? Continue reading “What If …”
What makes a fire burn
is space between the logs,
a breathing space.
Too much of a good thing,
too many logs
packed in too tight
can douse the flames
almost as surely
as a pail of water. Continue reading “Fire …”
I am a hole in a flute
that the Christ’s breath moves through
listen to this music
I am the concert from the mouth of every creature
singing with the myriad chorus Continue reading “The Breath Is Life’s Teacher …”
This morning no sound but the loud
breathing of the sea. Suppose that under
all that salt water lived the god Continue reading “New Religion …”
God does not look at your outer forms, but at the love within your love.
Don’t go outside your house to see flowers.
My friend, don’t bother with that excursion.
Inside your body there are flowers.
One flower has a thousand petals.
That will do for a place to sit.
Sitting there you will have a glimpse of beauty
inside the body and out of it,
before gardens and after gardens.
— Kabir from “Kabir: Ecstatic Poems”, Versions by Robert Bly