That Which Is Lost Within Me

Her Photographic Memory, William-Adolphe Bouguereau

On October 5, an announcement was made to the congregation that my employment at New Life Community Church would end on December 31.

A few days before, I was writing last week’s post. Nervous about the coming change, I reached for the hand that stilled the storm.

Often I am unaware of the storms in my life; thankfully, God isn’t. God has the advantage of being both near and far. Up close the Holy Spirit sees, feels, and hears what is going on inside me; from above God views where I have been and where I am heading. The Spirit has noticed the long hours I’ve been putting in, how I’ve neglected my bicycle, Gracie, and how often I comfort myself with food.

At the SoulStream partners’ retreat in June, I had many conversations with friends, catching up on the past year’s events. I told them I will be helping facilitate SoulStream’s spiritual formation course and that I have completed my training to be able to give the Ignatian spiritual exercises and hope to accompany one or two people through them.

“Yes. I am still working at the church half-time,” I explained. “And, oh yeah, I launched a blog last summer. I post a story or reflection every Friday.” After finding out what I’d been up to, each person commented with a tone of concern that I was doing a lot.

Are you hearing that? the Holy Spirit seemed to say, sharing their concern.

I thought about my three vocations: writing, spiritual direction, and pastoring.  Olympian Eric Liddell once said that he felt God’s pleasure when he ran. I feel God’s pleasure when I write or accompany someone in spiritual direction. But these endeavours often get pushed to the side. My third occupation, providing leadership in a church, demands most of my time and energy. It also pays the bills.

Sunday morning, as the retreat came to a close, we gathered for worship. John Kiemele, our director, read a poem. He invited us to listen for the line in the poem that stood out for us.

These words brought tears to my eyes: The risen, living Christ… seeks for that which is lost within me.

I knew what was lost within me: the “me” that I am on vacation when I don’t have to be a pastor. The risen Christ wanted to lift the heavy cloak of responsibility from my shoulders. He was whispering, Go. Be free.

Over the next few months, I imagined what it would be like not to be rushed all the time. I longed for a generous amount of time to rest, write, and ride my bike. By the end of the summer, Fred and I were certain that Jesus was asking me to step down as associate pastor of New Life.

When I talked about it with the elders, they confirmed my decision in a very practical way: the church doesn’t have the financial resources to keep me on staff.

It’s not easy to leave church work that I love or the paycheck that comes with it. But I can’t do it all without getting lost in a din of activity. Jesus sought for me in the successive storms of busyness and lifted his hand.


The risen, living Christ
calls me by my name;
comes to the loneliness within me;
heals that which is wounded in me;
comforts that which grieves in me;
seeks for that which is lost within me;
releases me from that which has dominion over me;
cleanses me of that which does not belong to me;
renews that which feels drained within me;
awakens that which is asleep in me;
names that which is formless within me;
empowers that which is newborn within me;
consecrates and guides that which is strong within me;
restores me to this world which needs me;
reaches out in endless love to others through me.
~Flora Slosson Wuellner

Credits and references:
Painting by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (November 30, 1825 – August 19, 1905) photo by Thomas Hawke.
Used with permission.
Eric Liddell quote
Jesus Calms the Storm © 2000 The Benedictine Sisters of Turvey Abbey and McCrimmon Publishing Co. Ltd (UK) Used with permission of
“The risen, living Christ” was reprinted from Prayer, Fear, and Our Powers: Finding Our Healing, Release, and Growth in Christ by Flora Slosson Wuellner. Copyright © 1989. Used by permission of Upper Room Books.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013, 2014

About Esther Hizsa

Esther is a spiritual director and writer. She lives in Burnaby with her husband, Fred, and they have two grown children and two grandchildren.
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6 Responses to That Which Is Lost Within Me

  1. Marja Bergen says:

    I was shocked to hear this, Esther. But I hear you. There are times we need to sit back and evaluate our life. Are we giving ourselves enough space to be the people God intends us to be?
    I wish you the best for a new life with more time to rest, spend time on your bike, and write your heart out. A time to be free!
    Love, your friend Marja


  2. Esther Hizsa says:

    Thanks for your thoughtful and kind comments, Marja. Great question: Are we giving ourselves enough space to be the people God intends us to be?
    Thank your for your blessing and encouragement.


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