Archives for posts with tag: Stillness

After some cold, wet weather, summer mornings return to my great delight. Having prayed the Trisagion, cup of tea in hand, I sauntered out to the best seat in the house to write. The sunshine is warm even as I sit in PJs and dressing gown, and the sounds of a waking world remind me of the goodness of God and fullness of life. Of course anxieties invade my head and seek to take hold of my attention, but I am able to acknowledge and set them to one side and write.

Birdsong is therapeutic in itself. Different sounds, interrupted by the heavy landing of wood pigeons on the roof of my gazebo, harmonise my thoughts and my spirits lift within. Its been challenging days with mum moving herself into a care home and Jayne experiencing severe pain due to the impact of full blown flu on her permanent chronic health condition. Yet, pressure is manageable when encased in nature. How is it the early morning sun lifts the spirit so? And to think I was fearful of this garden when moving from the urban concrete sprawl that I once called home, to this rural retreat.

The wholesomeness of the natural world stirs hope when so much of our reported world appears to offer little but fear. I understand that some TV channels broadcast log fires burning and these enjoy a committed viewing public. Perhaps simply filming and broadcasting the garden through the day might offer greater insight into life than all the journalists faithfully crafting their trade on a multiplicity of media platforms.

Life, for me at least, boils down to the simplicity of a stability of location, a pace where I know I am moving within my limits without choosing to be pushed beyond them and time to wait and watch. As the breeze reminds me of the presence of the natural world my eye drifts to the pile of cut laurel from which I will create fresh logs for two years hence.

Reflection:

Morning is the best of all times in the garden. The sun is not yet hot. Sweet vapours rise from the earth. Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten. Birds call to one another. Bees are already at work.

William Longgood

 

Advertisements

Online Church has much to offer. In a society consumed with time management what better way to worship than in front of the familiar computer terminal? 

Time pressures increase. Care for families pulls us in two directions at once. Growing children at one polarity, ageing parents at the other. Jobs demand 24/7 attention with the access and demands of smart technology, adding to the pressure to survive with a national wage freeze set against ever rising prices. It takes huge amounts of energy and concentration simply to stand still. Stillness means to survive and not to flourish.

Church now demands more of me than I have left to give. It becomes an unhelpful distraction laden with ‘oughts‘ and ‘shoulds‘ all appealing to my overdeveloped sense of guilt. If only church might once more be about encountering God through welcome, confession, the liturgy of God’s word followed by Eucharist? I’ve little time to engage with fellow congregants and the project focused program developed by salaried leadership freaks me out with the thought of more demands made upon my shrinking time resource. What’s worse that it appears attendance alone satisfies the spiritual hunger of most.

I run and enter a desert of my own creation. Yet as the noises within my head subside, as I find some moments to draw breath, I rediscover that my Christian life is about friendship with God. I’m seeking to maintain friendships on an ever expanding circle of need and demand, that I literally have not one moment to discern that still small voice.

Online church enables me to pause, in stillness and personally encounter God. I am part of something far larger than myself, yet I need not commute to attend, nor invest time in interpersonal relationships. I experience the best in worship and the best in preaching. I am nourished and refreshed, better able to love God and neighbour. I am taking good care of myself. I begin to build up the right sort of love for self and so offer my neighbour a better deal.

The desert that I imagined was a wasteland incapable of supporting life, is in fact a city teeming with people, presenting a litany of overwhelming demands and burning every last ounce of creative energy from me. I must withdraw and make my space with God, so God can make some space in me.

As for those interpersonal relationships; well a small group meeting at a time that suits its members best is an oasis for me. More of that later.

img_20161104_091418-1It’s often difficult to turn to prayer at the start of my day. The computer summons me siren like. It is perhaps a problem with my ego that seeks to discover who has emailed me. Fortunately since pursuing the anchorite life for a while now, my inbox receives very little traffic. I am learning that it is my identity in Jesus that truly reveals who I am in this life. Again I yearn for a cup of green tea (organic Sencha to be precise), but I resist such distractions.

It is a simple exercise with which I enter my conscious day. I have a small altar to help give expression to my prayerful approach to all of life. It also provides a visual reminder throughout my day that all is about Christ. When I react from deep within my fracture, it’s always useful to be reminded that I am not the key event. Maintaining my connection with the Presence is. A visual altar helps me in this process.

So here I am before my altar. I may well quietly and internally pray the Jesus prayer as I quieten my heart. Then crossing myself as a physical reminder of my true identity gifted through the Cross, I strike a match, light the candle and make my prayer for the day. This varies, yet always includes the theme of light. Jesus, the Light of the world, to reveal my path to me, to lighten the challenges I face, to be a light within always revealing God’s presence, to enable me be to be a source of light, and thereby hope, to those who cross my path. This is a spontaneous prayer, differing each morning, yet always resonating around the theme of light.

This prayer takes no more than five minutes. I then make my way to the kettle. Prepare my cuppa, start ordering the Kitchen for the day ahead, prepare Jayne’s packed lunch. Usually I can then sit awhile before Jayne and mum emerge for breakfast. In this time I cup my tea in my hands and generally take some moments in reflective silence. However more of that another day.

Try by starting your day with a candle prayer. If a formal prayer helps then try this one I found courtesy of the Northumbria Community.

May the blessing of light be on you – light without and light within.
May the blessed sunlight shine on you like a great peat fire,
so that stranger and friend may come and warm himself at it.
And may light shine out of the two eyes of you,
like a candle set in the window of a house,
bidding the wanderer come in out of the storm.

Candles in the Dark

 

%d bloggers like this: