State of Emergency

Posted on August 25, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Fires out of control
Smoky skies, scratchy throat
Bags packed and ready
to evacuate

Lord, have mercy. 

Diagnosis
Prognosis
Chemo
Side effects
70-80 percent successful
She’s the one the doctor’s talking to

Lord, have mercy.

Clutching a cardboard sign
on the verge of collapse
untouched by the few dollars
pressed into his hand

Lord, have mercy. 

Warm and dry
far from wind and fire
pokes and pain
well-fed, well-loved
and wide awake at one a.m.
I’m sitting on the bathroom floor
writing this poem
and hoping it will save me from
the looping thoughts
that won’t let go

Lord, have mercy on us all.

Credits and References:
“State of Emergency” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
On banner “Candle” by . Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Homelessness, Poetry, Poverty of Spirit, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Embraced in the Deep Love of Jesus

Posted on August 18, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Imagining ourselves in a gospel story with Jesus is risky. After all, if we stick to the script, we might hear Jesus can say something demanding, harsh or cold.

Before Jesus fed the 5000, he told the disciples, “You give them something to eat.”  After he defended the woman caught in adultery, he again commanded the impossible. “Go and sin no more.”   When the disciples were caught in a life-threatening storm, Jesus seemed to think it was no big deal and said, “Why are you still afraid? Do you still have no faith?” as if he expected them to be as cool as a cucumber in the face of danger.

Again, after Jesus kept Peter from sinking into the sea, he seemed to reprimand him. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

But when I met Jesus in this story, that’s not what he said to me.

He didn’t criticize, correct or expect more of me. He didn’t even pat me on the shoulder and say,” You know, if you’d drowned, you would be with my Father.” Instead, he wept, hugged and confessed his fear. “I thought I’d lost you.”

As I mentioned last week, when Julian of Norwich encountered Christ in her near-death experiences, she learned more about Christ and his love for us. Jesus showed himself to her. In my encounter with Jesus, he showed himself to me, too. As I said last week, I learned how deeply human he was/is. I also learned that he is not stoical at all and that his first instinct is not to change us but to love us and to express that love with passion and vulnerability.

As I receive this love, I am disarmed. I don’t have to fight to be different or earn what I need. I feel accepted and cherished, understood and validated. This love invites me to be kinder to myself and hold others in a similar light. 

Jesus, I am so grateful that you are with us always, and that your love is deep, vast, unmeasured and free. Thank you for being mighty and gentle, fierce and vulnerable. Thank you that your love is always underneath us, all around us and ever leading us home to you.  

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above!
— Samuel T. Francis, 1875

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

What would it be like now to go back and read the gospel narratives through the lens that Jesus’ first instinct is to love us and express that love? What if we trusted that there was a lot more going on in these stories than what is recorded in scripture? And what if Jesus is inviting us to use our imaginations contemplatively to experience that? That could change everything! Love mischief, indeed.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know, and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“The First Bird Back’ by Lulu Lovering. Used with permission.
Image of the Pacific Ocean at Ucluelet by Esther Hizsa, 2022. Used with permission.
Image of a cute kid looking through a magnifying glass by Botanic Gardens of Sydney. Public Domain.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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An Irrational Fear

Posted on August 11, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

After Julian of Norwich encountered Jesus in her near-death experience, she wrote down what happened and continued to reflect on the revelations of Christ’s love that she received. Then she wrote about these “showings.” That got me thinking: what if I considered my encounters with Jesus on my eight-day retreat in the same way?

Most profound was the moment I was in the boat after Jesus rescued me from drowning. In a gospel contemplation of the story of Jesus walking on water, I stepped out of the boat and a few minutes later plunged into the sea. After my rescue, both of us were sopping wet. Jesus was hugging me as tears rolled down his cheeks. He said, “I thought I’d lost you.”

As I reflected on that moment, what stood out for me most, and I will write about this  later, is the depth of his love for me. But what didn’t make sense was how Jesus could think he lost me. As God, he would know that I was never lost to him—not geographically, eschatologically, or relationally for “in God, we live and move and have our being” and there is nowhere I can go that God is not there. I’m not God, and even I know this is an irrational fear.

There was the insight. Jesus, in his humanity, was capable of irrational fear.

Jesus could and can feel all the heights and depths of emotion we feel despite being rooted and grounded in God. It could explain why he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

The thought that Jesus’ love for me (and everyone) is so intense that it includes the irrational fear of losing us teaches me two things. I learn that irrational fears are not immediately cast out by rational thought or deep faith. So we can let ourselves off the hook. We aren’t doing anything wrong or need to judge ourselves as immature when we have these fears. They are a part of being human.

The apostle John wrote, “Perfect love casts out fear” and I think the “casting out” is a process. When in the grip of debilitating fear, if we don’t panic, as James Finley says, we will see glimpses of Light and be found by grace.

As I sit with the reality that Jesus had irrational fears, I realize he too must have experienced childhood trauma. Setting aside the argument about whether his mother Mary was sinless or not, Jesus could have been deeply wounded by others he trusted who didn’t/couldn’t understand him. How could he not be traumatized by the flight to Egypt or the massacre of the innocents? As I recall, in Scattered Minds, Gabor Maté writes that when the Jews were persecuted in Hungary, his mother called the doctor because Gabor wouldn’t stop crying to nurse. The doctor told her this was happening to many other nursing babies as well. They felt the trauma in their little bodies. Jesus would have too. Like all of us, he must have been emotionally scarred by life circumstances and/or the cruelty of others.

I am so grateful for the humanity of Jesus. I’m grateful that he knows what it’s like to feel pain and be gripped by fear. I’m grateful that his promise to be with me always is filled with his passion and compassionate presence.

The Word became flesh and blood,
    and moved into the neighbourhood.
–John 1:14 (MSG)

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

In Finley’s podcasts on Julian, he reminds us that “showings” are not limited to near-death experiences (and I would add, or eight-day retreats). They can come in ordinary moments given to us by grace. “Notice what you notice,” Father Elton Fernandes, SJ would say when I was praying the Ignatian Exercises Retreat in Daily Life, “and return to them.” What is God, who knows every detail of your life, inviting you to feel and know?

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know, and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
Jesus on the cross from Pixabay Creative Commons
Photo of me (bottom right) with my family at Niagara Falls before my youngest brother was born.
“Sitting in silence” by Alice Popkorn. Used with permission.

© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Childhood, compassion, Ignatian Spirituality, Mystical, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Lay Your Burdens Down

Posted on August 4, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Not long after my 8-day retreat, I was listening to Pray As You Go. It opened with this song, and I was invited to reflect on these words of Jesus in Matthew 11:28-30:

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Then I was invited to become aware of the burdens I carry. I thought about a sad loss, my inability to be present at times, the constant temptation to overeat, my autistic and ADHD tendencies, and how hard it is when my values are not supported by others.

The same Jesus that I have asked to “take and receive my life” was now asking me to let him have my burdens too. He promises to carry them for me and walk with me in them.

I was reminded of church that Sunday. For the month of July, we had intergenerational worship. During the activity which was in place of the sermon time, each small group was given a scripture reference, asked to find the good news in it and write it on one of the colours of the rainbow on the bulletin board.

I leaned in to hear seven-year-old Sommy read John 14:15-17. We talked about the verses, and Sommy volunteered to be our scribe. Slowly and carefully, he wrote these words on the bulletin board, “We will be given a helper that will be with us”

I said, “Then you put a period.”

He shook his head and said and added “forever” to the end of the sentence.

We have been given a Helper who is with us always and forever. And that Helper is asking us to lay our burdens down and receive rest moment by moment, day by day.

For Jesus is not some high priest who has no sympathy for our weaknesses and flaws.
–Hebrews 4:15a (Voice)

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

Leslie Jordan & Jon Guerra of The Porter’s Gate sing You Hold It All. As you listen to the lyrics, what stands out for you? How is God helping you now? What do you notice going on in you as you take and receive that help?

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know, and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Resting” Paindane Beach, Inhambane, Mozambique by F Mira. Used with permission.
“Helping Hand” by Photo by sasint from Freerange Stock. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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How Sin Is Both Something and No Thing

Posted on July 28, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

This week I offer you two quotes about sin from Turning to the Mystics podcast on Julian of Norwich.

Mirabai Starr, who translated The Showings of Julian of Norwich, said: “’Sin has not a particle of substance. It is no thing,’ Julian says. ‘And can only be known through the pain that it causes. That’s the only thing that has any ontological reality or substance.’ And she says, ‘Even that is just a passing thing. The pain that we experience from missing the mark is only valuable in so far as it increases our love for God and our humility and tenderness.’”

As I was wrapping my mind around how sin could be no thing, James Finley explained, “Psychologically, physically, and historically, sin’s very real. As the way it expresses itself, in the ways we traumatize ourselves, each other, and the earth, it’s brutal. So sin is the tangible cruelty and the pain caused by that cruelty. So it’s very real. What we’re saying is in the depth dimension of things, although its impact is real and the driving energy is real, the deeper you go, you see that ultimately speaking, it has no substance. That love is the substance. And the love is present in the traumatizing energies, which is the mystery of the cross. The whole mystery of the cross love crucified, which is what Julian saw is this infinite love was present in transcending and fully present as this traumatizing moment, which is really God taking upon herself, our traumatizing moments as infused with love. This is why we can undergo a loss in our life.

“And at the time, if it’s unbearable, the loss really is unbearable. It just is unbearable. There are just some losses that are unbearable, the loss is so deep. But if we don’t panic, if we don’t panic and walk in the loss, we can see starting to shine out through it lessons about fragility and love and eternality and wisdom. So a lot of who we are today in terms of understanding the ways of the human heart, a lot of it has come out of our own moments where everything was lost.”

What do you hear in Miabai Starr and James Finley’s conversation?

I hear

  • Sin is “only valuable in so far as it increases our love for God and our humility and tenderness.”
  • Sin is brutal and real.
  • But the effects of sin do not have the final say.
  • If we don’t panic and walk in the loss we will find God with us and loving us there.

What do you feel?

I feel hope rising and wonder. I love that our stories are held in a bigger story. When I saw the effects of sin in my life it felt unbearable and defined my life. But God walked with me in it, validated the cruel impact it had and slowly, over time I was able to forgive and heal and now those painful experiences don’t define me anymore. They are simply stories that are part of a bigger, wonderful story of love.

A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.
–Isaiah 42:3 (NIV)

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

“James Finley offers a modern take on the timeless wisdom of the Christian mystics through meditation and practice. This podcast is for people searching for something more meaningful, intimate, and richly present in the divine gift of their lives.” (Center for Action and Contemplation). There are now six seasons of these downloadable podcasts, each featuring a different Christian mystic: Thomas Merton, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Guigo II, The Cloud of Unknowing, and Julian of Norwich.

Finley is a clinical psychologist, author, and teacher. For six years, he lived as a Trappist monk at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky, and Thomas Merton was his spiritual director.

Here is one of my favourite quotes from James Finley. “If we are absolutely grounded in the absolute love of God that protects us from nothing even as it sustains us in all things, then we can face all things with courage and tenderness and touch the hurting places in others and in ourselves with love.”

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know, and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
Stained glass of Dame Julian of Norwich (St Chrysostom’s, Quincy) by A K M Adam. Used with permission/
Mirabai Starr and James Finley’s quotes are from Turning to the Mystics Season 8 Julian of Norwich, Episode 1, p7 & 10.
“Drooping Flower” by FreddieBrown. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Poverty of Spirit, Prayer, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Take and Receive

Posted on July 21, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

What does it mean to surrender myself to Love,
to ask God to take and receive my life,
and follow Christ into suffering?

On the road to discovering that
I’m learning that it’s not saying yes to every need that arises
yet it’s being prepared to make a course change
and be ready to give.

It’s not apologizing for times I haven’t lived up to an ideal, 
yet it’s recognizing when I caused hurt and making amends.

It’s noticing how relentlessly my inner critic
wants to turn Jesus into a harsh taskmaster
and allowing the Good Shepherd to walk with me 
through the deep waters
of not knowing
how to be with suffering
or what this should look like

and that it’s still okay to have fun.

It’s slowing down 
and resting my head on his chest
so I can take and receive
all the love and freedom
Christ wants to give.

 

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
    He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
    he gently leads those that have young.
–Isaiah 40:11

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

“Growth in love is not an accomplishment but the receipt of a gift.” writes David G. Benner in, Surrender to Love: Discovering the Heart of Christian Spirituality “There is nothing more important in life than learning to love and be loved. Jesus elevated love as the goal of spiritual transformation. Psychoanalysts consider it the capstone of psychological growth. Giving and receiving love is at the heart of being human. It is our raison d’être.”

As you reflect on the past day or week, return to a moment when you gave or received love. Stay present there with God, and allow the felt sense of love to sink into your body.

Was there a moment when love was offered but not received? What feelings arise as you consider that? Share those feelings with God, and notice how God wants to love you now.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know, and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Surrender” by Dr. Matthias Ripp. Used with permission.
“Take and Receive” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
Stained glass of Jesus, the Good Shepherd window at St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, Charleston, South Carolina. Attributed to the Quaker City Glass Company of Philadelphia, 1912. Cadetgray, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0&gt;, via Wikimedia Commons
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Ignatian Spirituality, Poetry, Prayer, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Moments: Part 2

Posted on July 14, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

You, my dear reader, might think
that when life-changing stuff like this happens
that it would be so easy to meet God in prayer on retreat,
but it was not.
I struggled to stay present. 
A couple of times I fell asleep.
Other times what I reported to my spiritual director
felt flat.
But in one or two of those prayers each day
there were moments I will never forget.

There was the moment when you let go and breathed your last.  
I held your lifeless body
so grateful you were no longer in pain.

There was the moment I was with Cleopas on the road to Emmaus,
and your death really through him for a loop.
I thought about my doubts about you
when you seem so powerless and distant,
and a part of me wonders if I’ve done it all wrong.
Then a stranger came along and explained 
that it’s all good.
It’s just different from what I thought it would be,
and I could go on believing what I hoped from the bottom of my heart
is true–
that you are good, you are love,
and you will never leave us to face our perils alone. 
The joy of that hope returning felt like a meteor rising in me,
and that was before you broke the bread and revealed that stranger was you! 

Then there was the moment, you asked me, “Who do you say that I am?”
And I said, “Love incarnate, the one who loves us more than life itself.
You are eternally God, fully human and divine.
You are the one who never gives up on us, is never disappointed in us,
never humiliates or shames us.
You are compassionate and full of loving-kindness.
You are misunderstood, misused, judged, blamed and often dismissed.
You allow us to suffer and are with us in it. 
You allow death and are often silent.
You open our eyes to suffering and help us to relieve it.
You are my Lord, my Saviour, my Friend.
You are loved.”

And that’s when Ignatius’ prayer came to me.
“Take and receive my life.
All I am and have are yours.
Give me only your love and the grace to love you in return.”

Something had changed. 
I felt I could trust you.
There wasn’t going to be a bait and switch.
Now that I surrendered my life to you,
you weren’t going to force me into a mould or work the life out of me.
I could trust that you only want to keep loving me
and freeing me to be the I AM that I am.

Something else had changed.
I had avoided thinking about my sin
because if I did I might discover that my critical self was in cahoots with you,
and I should know how awful I am.
But now I want to see my sin so I can make more room for love.
I want to see the suffering I have caused others or myself
so I can, with your help, make a different choice.

I received the grace I asked for:
to fall in love with you and be with you.
Now I ask for the grace to go with you where you always go,
into suffering.
Let me be indifferent to getting what I want,
all the things I own, how my life will unfold,
my health, the weather and my moods.
But let me not be indifferent to suffering.
Let me be with you there
where your kingdom is coming. 

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding,
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.

You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

Saint Ignatius of Loyola, 1491-1556

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

Jesus talked about you in one of my prayers. We sat down to rest after the loaves and fishes were multiplied and looked at the thousands of men, women and children that had been fed. I imagined them as all the people who read my blog, who attend my church, who live in my neighbourhood, as well as my family and friends. “I know each of them,” Jesus said with such love in his eyes. “I know their stories and am with them too.”

What I received in these moments on my retreat–a felt experience of the fierce depth of God’s love–is for you too. So, go ahead and ask. Ask God to tell you what you need to hear and know in the depth of your heart.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“The Road to Emmaus” Fritz von Uhde (1891), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Bible references: Luke 24:13-35; Mark 8:27-30, Mark 6:34-44
The phrase “face our perils alone” is from a quote in Thoma Merton’s Thoughts in Solitude. “Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
The reference to indifference is from Ignatius’ Principle and Foundation; the reference to not being indifferent is from Mondy Williams, The Gift of Spiritual Intimacy, the chapter on the Three Degrees of Humility p.156.
“Jesus Walking on Water” by Daniel of Uranc 1433. Matenadaran, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
“Loaves and Fishes” stained glass window in St. James the Greater Catholic Church in Concord, North Carolina Nheyob, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Moments: Part 1

Posted on July 7, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

When I was alone with you for eight days,
there were moments I will never forget.

On the first day, there was the moment you said,
“Go ahead. Ask for what you want.” 
I asked to fall in love with you again
and felt my eyes water and my heart soften.

The next day, I was dancing with the headphones on 
and U2’s Landlady on repeat.
Tears streamed down my face because 
it was so true…
Every wave that broke me
Every song that wrote me
Every dawn that woke me
Was to get me home to you.

There was the moment I was the woman who reached out
and touched Your robe hoping to be healed.
Only I didn’t want to be healed, and I didn’t want to touch your robe.
I wanted to touch you.
So I tapped you on the shoulder.
You turned around,
and, when you saw me,
you embraced me like a long-lost friend.

Then there was the moment I was a baby on your lap,
and you played with my toes and smelled my hair. 
You told me you used to sneak into my crib
when no one was looking 
and hold me close and sing me lullabies.

There was that stormy day when you came to us walking on the water.
I didn’t get out of the boat to prove it was you;
I just wanted to be with you.
I stepped onto water as solid as a rock until it wasn’t,
and I sank fast 
as if I were paralyzed. 
I went down, down, down.
Then suddenly your arm was around my waist, and you pulled me to the surface.
Back in the boat, both of us sopping wet,
you were crying and hugging me.
“I thought I’d lost you,” you said.

There was the moment when I was brushing my teeth
and I remembered that time when I was twelve
and needed to be “taken down a notch.”
You remembered it too and said,
“I will NEVER do that to you.”

And then there was the moment
when You were on the cross.
You cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why aren’t you saving me?”
Like every other human, you didn’t want to die.
And, like every other human, when God didn’t give you what you wanted,
you felt abandoned.
And that is an awful feeling.
So I helped you the way you help me when God feels far away.
I put my hand on your heart
and returned you to moments when you felt loved.
“Remember when you taught me how to pray…
… when we danced to U2 …
… when I tapped you on the shoulder?
Remember what you said
after you reached down from on high and drew me out of deep waters
and when you met me by the sink?
Remember how in each of those moments
I loved you back?
I’m right here, loving you still.”

(to be continued)

“Prayer,” said Mechthild of Magdeburg, “brings together two lovers,
God and the soul, in a narrow room where they speak much of love…”
― Evelyn Underhill, in the introduction to The Cloud of Unknowing

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

I am grateful for Jesuits like Father Richard Soo SJ and the Jesuit Spirituality Apostolate of Vancouver for offering a variety of retreats so that people can have life-changing moments with God.

Thank you to William Manaker, SJ for directing me. From June 28 to July 6, he met with me daily, listened to what I was experiencing in my prayers and time in silence, and then assigned scriptures to pray with during the next four hour-long prayer times I would have before our next meeting.

I am grateful, too, to be offering space to others as they retreat with God in everyday life–formally or informally. Most of all, I’m grateful that God is as good and loving as I’d hoped, but more about that next week in Moments: Part 2. 

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Reflecting Moments” by Thomas Hassel. Used with permission.
Bible references: Luke 11:1-13; Mark 5:25-34; Matthew 14:22-33; Psalm 22; Psalm 18:16-19.
Candle by Irene Fennema. Used with permission.
Droplet by Anne Yungwirth. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Mystical, Poetry, Prayer, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Falling in Love

Posted on June 30, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

How can I go off-grid for eight days while our priest was away?

I had heard that the Jesuit Spirituality Apostolate of Vancouver was offering another eight-day retreat. I considered going, but I’m one of the churchwardens who, along with the priest-in-charge, are expected to hold things together. I emailed Father Richard Soo to ask about an alternative date. But that wasn’t available so I let it go.

In the meantime, SoulStream‘s offering of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, which Jan Evans and I will be co-facilitating, filled up and had a waitlist.

I thought about the participants’ commitment to spend 45-60 minutes a day in prayer, often imagining themselves in a gospel scene with Jesus. I should do an eight-day retreat, I thought. You know, practice what you preach. But I brushed that thought away. I don’t want “shoulds” to rule me.

The next day, I was with a directee* that expressed a deep longing to melt into God’s love. I remembered a similar experience. I had not experienced that longing with such intensity for a while.

That memory came back to me as Jan and I met with some of the participants for an informal Q&A, We began our time together with these words which I read aloud.

Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is,
than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination
will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings,
what you will do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read,
who you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in love, stay in love,
and it will decide everything.
— Fr. Joseph P. Whelan, SJ

Jan talked about the spiritual exercises as an opportunity to fall in love with Jesus. As she did, I sensed God saying to me, “Come away, not because you must, but because you have fallen in love with Me, and I have fallen in love with you.”

I shared all this with my spiritual director a few days later, tears pouring down my cheeks. “So often when I’m on retreat, I want to make something happen, or I’m afraid I’ll find out that I am failing. But I think, God just wants to love me.”

“I suppose I could ask a previous warden if she could fill in for me,” I said.

“You could,” said my director, smiling.

Of course, you know what I’m going to say next. I asked the previous warden, and she said, “Yes. No problem.”

And so, when this post goes live, I will be off-grid with the One I fell in love with when I first heard the words, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

Let me not run from the love which you offer …
–Soul of Christ Prayer,
paraphrased by David L. Fleming, S.J.

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

SoulStream is a dispersed, contemplative Christian community. The mission of this loving community, which I joined in 2011, “is to nurture contemplative experience with Christ leading to inner freedom and loving service.” That is what the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises Retreat in Daily Life offers. Although the program is full for this year, there is still space in the Living from the Heart course. Also, Jan and I will be offering two weekend-long Ignatian prayer retreats online on October 13-15, 2023 and March 15-17, 2024. If you would like to be on the email list to find out what SoulStream is offering and when information is available and registration is open, please contact soulstream1@gmail.com.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

* Directee’s words used with their permission.

Credits and References:
Heart image from pxfuel. Creative Commons.
Images of the leaf and hands holding a heart-shaped rock by Irene Fennema. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com

Posted in community, compassion, Ignatian Spirituality, Prayer, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I Am Enough

Posted on June 23, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

When someone expresses their love for me, I wonder, what did I do to deserve it? What have I become that evokes the appreciation of others? Then, unconsciously, I set out to do more of that, be more of that. But this time, when I held this beautiful gift of being loved, I noticed those thoughts. 

Serendipitously, I heard myself ask a directee* a few days later, “What would it be like to hear Jesus say to you: ‘You are enough. You’ve done enough.’?”Like me, they constantly felt they needed to do more, be more. 

I practice EFT tapping infrequently. But one time, when I was doing it along with Nick Ortner, he named common failures, “I’m going to procrastinate. I’m going to eat things I didn’t want to eat. I’m going to skip exercise … ” and then he added, “and I’m enough.” Tears came to my eyes as I tapped along. And right on cue, as I wrote this, I teared up again.

I want to go wherever God sends me. I want to do the good work that is mine to do. God wants that too. And God is also clearly telling me I don’t need to do more. I don’t need to do more to be enough or to be loved.

Years ago, I wrote about a friend whose financial advisor told her that she and her husband had saved enough money for retirement. Now they needed to spend it. Fred and I are in that place now. It feels weird to think I don’t need to make any more money.

It feels weird to think I don’t need to do more. It’s as if God has kept an account of my life and is saying to me, “Esther, you filled your quota long ago. You’ve done enough. You are enough.”

There’s a part of me that doesn’t fully believe that yet. That’s okay. Deep work takes time, and Love never gives up.

Long ago the Lord said to Israel:
“I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love.
With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.
— Jeremiah 31:3 (NLT)

Love Mischief for the World

“So many good-hearted people I know are exhausted.” Wayne Muller, a minister and community advocate, writes in A Life of Being, Doing and Having Enough. “However sweet or nourishing the fruits of their work may be for themselves or others, nothing they do ever feels like enough.” Muller explains, “A life of enough is born in every moment — in the way we listen, the way we respond to the world, the way we see what is and tell the truth of who we are. Every single choice, every single moment, every change of course can bring us closer to a life of peace, contentment, authenticity, and easy sufficiency, a life of being, having, and doing enough.”

Mark Nepo, author of The Book of Awakening, says, “Feel the fact that you are enough.”

Indeed, let that fact soak in.

Scripture is full of instructions about doing and becoming. That is because our creator God is lovingly transforming us and the world to be more Christlike. Love invites us to participate in that transformation–not because God despises us as we are (God does not!), but because God sees us and loves us. We are always enough, AND God always gives us more love, and more freedom to be our true/Christlike selves.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

*The directee gave me their permission to share this.

Credits and References:
“Heart” by 越/Yue 胡/HU. Used with permission. 
“Love” by Joe Green. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is 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 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com

Posted in compassion, Reflections, Spiritual Direction | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments