Carrying Heavy Burdens and Listening to the Rain

Charleston: carrying heavy burdens and listening to the rain

Spotify

“I know you carry a heavy burden, one you do not often share. I see its weight, even behind your hopeful smile. Let me hold it for a while, trusting it to my safekeeping. I would like to see how high you can fly without it, how far and how wide. High enough to see a path before you. Wide enough to give yourself options. Long enough to let you breathe the clean air of an open sky. Take your time. There is no hurry. I will be here, praying for you when you return, holding something that suddenly seems lighter.”—Steven Charleston

I hear the gentle rain on our roof as I read Bishop Charleston this morning. I imagine my worries being washed away as the rain rolls off our roof. I think of the third step in 12-step recovery, “turning our lives and our wills over to the care of God.” We often forget the last part of that sentence. God is taking care of all our concerns. Caring for them. As I imagine this, as I pray it, for seconds, I feel free. I do not have to be in charge of the world any longer.

Of course, it is our custom to keep taking our concerns back, as if God were not able to handle them. Amazing that we do this. This morning I have a little “taste” of freedom to become the person God created me to be, instead of worrying about the rest of the world. I am embarrassed to say that I once believed that if I worried about something enough, it would never happen! Another example of how our amazing minds can trick us.

This morning, I am listening to the rain.

Pinterest

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Charleston: Learning to Read Spiritual Signs

Charleston: Learning to Read Signs in a Spiritual Life

“You have seen the signs around you for some time now. You are beginning to understand which way the wind is blowing. The spiritual life is not an exercise of imagination but of interpretation. We see the signs. Understanding them as a coherent message requires skill. The handwriting on the wall tells us nothing unless we have learned to read.”—Bishop Steven Charleston, Facebook Page.

“Learning to read the signs on the wall.” Bishop Charleston offers us a helpful metaphor for living and discerning the spiritual life. As spiritual friends, we help each other see where God works in our lives. We have friends who help us connect the dots, suggesting that a storm may be coming when we miss the signs. We are called to remember how God led us in the past. We have seen the signs. When one of us cannot presently see the signs of God alive in our lives, those who can see them help each other. 

This is why God calls us to community. We cannot do this alone. Our spiritual practices, including prayer, contemplation, study, Centering Prayer, the labyrinth, praying the Rosary, and intentional walking, help us interpret the handwriting on the wall—the hand of God caring for us, leading us, and never abandoning us. We practice some spiritual disciplines by ourselves; others, such as corporate worship, we practice together. Whether we experience these disciplines alone or together, we are called to share what we learn with one another. Discernment about where to go or what action to take next is most effectively realized in community.

I have friends who sit alone to meditate and say they perceive the direction God calls them to in their lives. By listening, they discover what they should do. All the better for them. I could never do this except on rare occasions.

My experience is that others notice signs I have missed, and the course of action I should take is readily apparent to them. All of this, of course, requires much trust and life in a community.

I was continually amazed at how our children, grandchildren, and some older adults learned to stay connected during the pandemic—Zoom, Facebook Live, game apps such as Kahoot and Scrabble GO, watching movies together via Watch2gether and Netflix Party. But, of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg! Isn’t it wonderful that we learn to do all these things from our younger generation!

Joanna. joannaseibert.com.  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Sue Monk Kidd: Connections, Travel Near and Far

Sue Monk Kidd: Connections, Travel Near and Far

blue mosque

“Remember the little flame on the Easter candle. Cup your heart around it. Your darkness will become the light.”—Sue Monk Kidd, “A Journal Entry” in When the Heart Waits: Spiritual Direction for Life’s Sacred Questions (HarperOne, 1992).

I wish I had Sue Monk Kidd’s When the Heart Waits: Spiritual Direction for Life’s Sacred Questions with me to read when meeting with other spiritual friends. I hope to remember her message about waiting. Many friends seeking direction live in the biblical tradition of waiting, the “night sea journey”: Jonah in the belly of the whale, Christ in the tomb, or Joseph in the well, where there is only darkness.

 I hope to remember Kidd’s phrase when we have difficulty letting go: “Put on your courage suit” and cross the bridge to letting go.

I began this book on Maundy Thursday in the Chapel of Repose, where the Reserved Sacrament was kept. I ended it in Greece, with my husband, my daughter, and her husband, in the fourth week of Easter as we overlooked the Acropolis. 

Kidd’s later books recount her trips to Greece, especially with her daughter, and her growing connection to the feminine aspect of herself and God. My daughter and I wrote a book together, as Kidd and her daughter did—so much serendipity.

Kidd ends her book by describing a drawing of a mother and child that emerged from her true inner self, based on a sketch she made at Kanuga, the home of my spiritual direction class. Several years ago, on Mother’s Day, we dedicated a sculpture of a mother and child in the garden next to St. Luke’s chapel, a piece my husband had commissioned. 

More connections.

As you can see, Sue Monk Kidd captures my attention and speaks to me. Today, as I relive journeys, I try to follow more of Kidd’s guidance, stay in the moment, and feed my soul real food instead of junk food. 

I am remembering past trips to ancient and nearby parts of the world we both visited with our daughter and granddaughters on land and sea, where we learned, surrounded by those we love and away from our busy world, to let go and be in the moment.

Retrace your steps in your mind to a country you once visited with loved ones, perhaps carrying a book by a favorite author. Maybe you traveled to England, Italy, China, Spain, Germany, Greece, Norway, France, South Africa, Canada, Mexico, or Israel.

I remember Buechner’s words in Wishful Thinking: “There are two ways of remembering. One is to make an excursion from the living present back into the dead past. The old sock remembers how things used to be when you and I were young, Maggie.”

The other way is to summon the dead past back into the living present. The young widow remembers her husband, and he is beside her. When Jesus said, ‘Do this in remembrance of me’ (1 Corinthians 11:24), he was not prescribing a periodic dose of nostalgia.

            Give thanks for those you love who have traveled with you. Give thanks for writers who speak to your soul. Pray for that author, your family, and the people in that country to remain safe, especially the families in Ukraine and the Middle East.

Joanna joannaseibert.com. https://www.joannaseibert.com/