Time to Sit with God

While sitting with my spiritual friend this afternoon, he said that he felt it was time for me to sit with God for a while.  You see, I find myself at a confluence of thought, emotion, spiritual questing, and physical tiredness.

A confluence is a meeting of two or more flowing water sources -- at least in my experience that's what it is.  My use of that word is very deliberate.  In my experience of my own thought processes, the way my emotions work, the spiritual journey I've been on, and the way my body responds to stress, it's all flowing.  I have been learning to go with the flow of my life rather than pushing the river.  So, you can tell, I'm all over the water metaphors!

The undercurrents of a confluence can be very strong, confusing -- misdirecting -- exhausting.  I've been struggling with having a divided heart and mind about my relationship with God and how I accomplish God's work given to me in the world.  Apparently, it is time for me to sit with God.

Now, when I sit with God, when my mind and heart and soul are full, I don't converse with God.  I simply sit and listen.  Admittedly, I do begin my time sitting with a prayer of thanksgiving, of submission, of opening my heart to hear.  Then...I listen.

It's amazing what I hear.  The simplest things become rich, music-like.  The rustling of tree leaves, the honk of a goose, the crunch on pavement of someone walking, the smell of whatever is in the air at a given moment, the feel of the chair, bench, ground that I'm sitting on -- all of these sensory experiences wrap me and invite me to drop deeper into an experience of God's presence than I normally allow. 

That's when the silence envelopes me.  A silence that is thick and sweet.  A silence that is permeated by love, pure love, indescribable in its acceptance and unconditional essence.  The love of the universe.  In this spot, I hear, I receive -- what I can seldom verbalize, yet when I return to the world, things are clearer, struggling is gone, acceptance and submission are possible and a joy, a sublime joy permeates my heart and my spirit.  Answers to my questions may or may not be present, may or may not have risen to the top of my consciousness, but joy is there.

Gratitude.  Grace.  Amen and Amen.

Sinking and Fear

I have recently compared my experience of this time of transition in my spiritual journey to that of floating on the water.  When I'm relaxed and capable of just being with the flow, the water, myself, God, I float along just fine.  However, when I tense up, try to control the flow, begin to worry, or want to "know," when my trust falters, I sink. 

Now, we all know what happens to new swimmers when they feel themselves beginning to sink, right?  They flounder, they flail around, grasping for whatever they can hold onto, to once again feel safe.  Over the last week, I have flailed around, grasping for whatever I can find to hold onto, to once again feel safe, secure, wanted, needed, remembered...all of those very human emotions.

This all reached a pinnacle last night.  As I lay in my bed fearful, full of doubt, questioning everything, I was drawn to examen.  I realized then that God was in control and I should allow God to do what God wanted!  As I reviewed my day, I was reminded of so many acts of grace that I experienced, of the grace I received, of the reminders that I am in the hearts of many people.  I was shown that I will not be forgotten. 

I went to sleep reassured.  I woke this morning to a feeling of well-being that has been absent for about a week now.  Nice.  My "work" for this week is to allow God to heal the fear in my heart of being forgotten.  I'll be spending some time on that this week. 

The other word I received is "slow" -- as in slow down, slow process, slow (and deep) work ahead. I see those bright yellow caution signs for road work.  Ah yes.  Road work.  Ufdah.