My Suffering

Posted on April 21, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Sadness crept closer
with each chapter I read.
Then it slipped in beside me when
the father left too.

It was still there the next day
and the day after that.
Sadness kept coming in
through the tiny crack of a story
that wasn’t even mine.

tender
fragile
close to tears

It didn’t have words.
It didn’t need them.
One person’s suffering
is enough for us all,

enough
to touch into mine,
my story of abandonment.
My pain

wanted to be seen
and felt.

My suffering has asked for this
so many times,
but every time,
like the father,
I left.

My suffering doesn’t leave.
It patiently waits for another story,
another crack,
that allows it in
for a little
while
longer.

What was my first word? I asked him, and he said: Don’t. I asked him what my second word was but he couldn’t remember. I think I’d have made something up if I was him. Like go.
―Miriam Toews, A Complicated Kindness

∗ ∗ ∗

Eastertide Reflection 2

The second posture Heather Ruce shared with us on that Easter Saturday retreat, was to stand, spine straight, firm in our Centre. In this solid place, we open to what is–see it, feel it with Christ, in Christ. We open our eyes to the suffering within and around us. Like Ignatius’ meditation on the Third Degree of Humility, we willingly, and intentionally face what is not comfortable. We go with Christ where he always goes–into suffering. We hold the question, “What am I being asked to see and bear?”

Credits and References:
Fiction image by  Ofjd125gk87. Creative Commons.
“My Suffering” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
“Bloomst” by Leuchtturm81 . Creative Commons
“Tree” by Hofheim i. Ufr. on . 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, Easter, Ignatian Spirituality, Mindfulness, Poetry, Prayer, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Known

Posted on April 14, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

I am made of the earth
and of its Creator
flesh and spirit
human, divine
impermanent and eternal.

I will die
and before I die
I will have died and risen again
hundreds of times.

On the Saturday
between Good Friday
and Easter Sunday,
I lay awake in the tomb
and contemplated my death.

My body will die
but my spirit will not
and yet, I will need my mind
(which is part of my body)
to know that. 
And when my mind ceases to be,
my knowing of that will also cease.

Then where will I be?

I felt myself
fall
out of my grasp

and found myself

held
in the knowing of Another.

My being doesn’t depend
on my knowing
but on my being known

and I am 
–we all are– 
always
known.

For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.
–Colossians 3:3 (NIV)

∗ ∗ ∗

Eastertide Reflection 1

I spent Easter Saturday at St. Andrew’s Anglican Church in Langley listening and meditating on the words of Heather Ruce as she reflected on the teachings of Cynthia Bourgeault. Heather invited us into four postures. These are inspiring my Easter season posts.

The first posture is to ground ourselves in two natures–one foot in the ordinary and the other in God’s kingdom, one foot in what we see and the other in what is unseen. We are both flesh and spirit. Living in this duality is challenging. We tend to lean one way or the other. Jesus, in John 15, invites us to abide in both, to find God inside and around us.

We are both the keepers of our days and ones kept by a Love that enlivens us. In Psalm 4:8, David writes, “In peace, I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.” Waking or sleeping, we dwell in God’s love.

Credits and References:
“‘Just right!’ she sighed.” by Steve Corey. Used with permission.
“Faith” (Detail from a window, showing Faith holding the lamp of the Spirit’s illumination by Burne Jones in Buscot parish church in Oxfordshire, England) Photo by Fr Lawrence Lew, O.P.. Used with permission.
“Lovely Feet”  by Amancay Maahs. 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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Just as You Promised

Posted on April 8, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

I fell asleep beside you in the tomb
and when I woke up 
you were gone

and not gone.

I looked up, 
and there you were 
looking down at me
and smiling.

“Good morning, my Beloved,”
you said as if
it wasn’t the most famous morning
in the history of the world.

I jumped up 
and hugged you.

 

“Gandalf! I thought you were dead.
But then I thought I was dead myself.
Is everything sad going to come untrue?”
–Samwise Gamgee, Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien

∗ ∗ ∗

Credits and References:
“Morning Mood” by Alice Popkorn. Used with permission.
“Klimmende winde” by Sylvia Sassen.Used with permission. 
“Just as You Promised” by Esther Hizsa, 2023.
© 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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May We Love You

Posted on April 2, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

And, now, it is our turn
to remind you of your belovedness, Dear One.

This week, when you need to hear it most,
may we greet you on the road, palms waving.
May we wash your beautiful feet,
savour our last meal,
and feel the sting of being betrayed.
May we hold you in your anguished prayers
and be arrested with you.
May we declare our love
and meet your gaze.
May we wipe your brow,
and carry your cross.

As you have loved us,
may we love you, dear Jesus.

May we see your pain,
hear your cries,
and touch your hands,
your side,
your cheek,

and tell you again,

“You are my Beloved.
I will never leave you or forsake you.
You are mine.”

May we caress your feet
as you breathe your last

and weep

as we shroud
and rock
your lifeless body.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
–An African-American Spiritual

Credits and References:
“Christ in Gethsemane” by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“Crucifixion 2” by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“Jesus down from the cross” by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
Poem “May We Love You” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
© 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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Let Me Tell You Again

Posted on March 31, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

In that light-blinding
mountaintop
moment,
you heard Me say,
“You are My beloved,”
and you believed it.

You held it
close,
felt it
thumping against your chest
all the way
down.

But oh, My love,
here in the valley,
where

the traffic’s jammed with red lights,
you get that look of disappointment,
the day is done and your work isn’t,
your playdate gets cancelled–again,
the dark thoughts return,
it’s all your fault,
your stomach’s upset,
you just can’t sleep,
or see,
or hear,
or remember,

let Me tell you again,

“You are my beloved.
I will never leave you
or forsake you.
You
are   
mine.”

If you would enter
into the wilderness,
do not begin 
without a blessing.

Do not leave
without hearing
who you are:
Beloved …

—Jan Richardson,
“Beloved Is Where We Begin”

∗ ∗ ∗

A Lenten Pause

As we continue to claim our belovedness, we have moments when we know it and feel it in our bones. It’s like a glorious homecoming. Then there are other times when we doubt our worth and ask ourselves, as I do sometimes, “Would anyone fall in love or stay in love with me?” The Holy and Loving One hears the sighs of our hearts and invites us to return home to our belovedness again and again.

During Coming Home: An Ignatian Silent Retreat last weekend, we listened to a number of songs that invited us to come home to Love’s embrace. If you would like to listen to them, here is our playlist.

Credits and References:
A person sitting on a mountain top by Wallpaper Flare. Creative Commons.
“Let Me Tell You Again” by Esther Hizsa, 2023.
“Drudgery” by madras91. Used with permission.
“Time” by Cale Woodley 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, Lent, Poetry, Songs | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

My Second Podcast Interview

Posted on March 24, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

In this Hints of Gladness podcast, Rod Janz asks me about my new book In the Heart of the Beloved and the Everyday Pilgrim series. It was a fun conversation. I hope you enjoy listening to it.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN ON APPLE PODCASTS

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN ON SOUNDCLOUD

In this episode we discuss…

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me
all the days of my life
and I shall dwell in the heart of the Beloved forever.
Amen.
—Psalm 23:6,
Nan C. Merrill,
Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness

∗ ∗ ∗

A Lenten Pause

As we continue a Lenten practice of claiming our belovedness, how would you answer the following questions?

How have goodness and mercy followed you lately? 

If Rod were to interview you, what story would you share about discovering your belovedness?

Credits and References:
Image of girl with headphones by pxfuel. Creative Commons.
Photo of the book In the Heart of the Beloved by Rod Janz
“Time” by Cale Woodley
© 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 In the Heart of the Beloved, Reflections, Seed Cracked Open | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

What I Heard Before Falling Asleep

Posted on March 17, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

On the day
my sister ended a Zoom call
with a heartfelt “I love you,”

a directee dried her eyes
and said, “Thank you,”

the warm embrace of a friend
still lingered in my body,

the rain stopped long enough
for me to go for a walk,

Fred picked up my photocopies
and made dinner,

and an email made me smile,

I got into bed 
and, in that undefended moment 
before falling asleep,
an ache whispered
“Would anyone fall in love
with me?”

Then it went to sleep
as if it had said nothing 
at all. 

But I heard it,

and I wait 
to hear it again 
and again
until that ache
doesn’t ache
anymore. 

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of all my fears;
You bless me with oil
and my cup overflows.
–Psalm 23:5
Paraphrased by Nan C. Merrill,
Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness

∗ ∗ ∗

A Lenten Pause

As we continue a Lenten practice of claiming our belovedness, we create a safe place for our fears to be heard. An ache that is very old and very young may speak. It allows us to listen and sit with it for a while until that old/young part of ourselves knows it will be okay.

An ache may say, “I’m not good enough,” or, “Everything I touch, I ruin,” or, “I’m not that important,” or well, you fill in the blank. We (God and I) don’t have to agree with what my fear is saying; we simply need to hear it and let that old/young part of ourselves be loved and thank it for being brave enough to speak.

Credits and References:
Red Squirrel_7674 by Robert Taylor Used with permission.
“Sittin’ in the mornin’ sun, I’ll be sittin’ when the evenin’ comes” (Red Squirrel) by  Joachim Dobler. Used with permission.”
The poem “What I Heard Before Falling Asleep” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
“Time” by Cale Woodley. 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 Lent, Poetry, Prayer, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

A Blessing for When You’re in the Wilderness

Posted on March 10, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.
—Matthew 4:1 (NIV)

On the day the Spirit
leads you
into the wilderness,
may you know
it was a Friend
that led you there
and that Friend
hasn’t left your side
for a minute.

On the day,
you would turn those stones
into bread, if you could–
raise the dead,
open blind eyes,
wake up the world,
lift the dark,
end the war–
and you are tempted to despair,
may those stones become
a seat,
a pillow,
an altar.

On the day,
you are visited by
your irrelevance,
aloneness,
powerlessness,
limitations
or longings,
may you be ministered to
by angels.

God, you are my God. I am searching so hard to find you.
Body and soul, I thirst for you in this dry and weary land without water.
—Psalm 63:1 (ERV)

∗ ∗ ∗

A Lenten Pause

Every day God is telling us, “You are my beloved child; in you, I am well pleased.” During this season of Lent, I invite you to join me in receiving our belovedness through this Daily Prayer Practice.

“Where is your wilderness?” Bishop John Stephens asked us when he visited St. Stephens on the first Sunday of Lent. We are called beloved and led into a wilderness in which we are hungry, alone and tempted to find an easy way out. Where is your wilderness? How is God loving you there? What “angels” have ministered and encouraged you?

Credits and References:
The Temptation in the Wilderness by Briton Rivière (1898), Public Domain
Poem “A Blessing for When You’re in the Wilderness” by Esther Hizsa, 2023.
“Angel” Mt Hope Cemetery in Rochester, NY by Aaron Schock. Used with permission.
“Time” by Cale Woodley. 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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Redeemed

Posted on March 3, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

“I need your help,” I said to Fred who was barely awake. “I made a big mistake.”

I drew back the curtains to let in the light. “You know that highchair at the church that I thought was too old and not worth fixing. I got Rick to put it in the dumpster. I just reread the email from the manufacturer. If the armrest isn’t the correct length, they will replace it. Now I need to get the highchair out before the dumpster gets emptied.”

“I’ll go after breakfast,” my hero said.

While I offered spiritual direction, Fred retrieved the highchair. He checked it over. It was still intact and the part in question did not need replacing. I could clean it up and return it to the church where it was needed by a mom who helps out with our Community Meal.

How did all this happen? The details are not that interesting. In summary, I didn’t take into account the needs of the mom. I didn’t slow down and read the email properly. I made the decision alone. It wasn’t until after I disposed of the highchair that I learned how useful and valuable it was. A new one could have cost the church $300.

So I was quite relieved when I got the good news from Fred. All day long, I felt myself smile whenever I thought about it. Sure, I made a number of mistakes and learned a lot in the process. But I have been redeemed.

And that’s a wonderful feeling.

The Christian leader of the future is called to be completely irrelevant
and to stand in this world with nothing to offer but his or her own vulnerable self.
God loves us, not because of what we do or accomplish,
but because God has created and redeemed us in love.
–Henri Nouwen

∗ ∗ ∗

A Lenten Pause

During this season of Lent, I have invited you to join me in a daily practice of receiving our belovedness. In the story I shared today, I named a number of mistakes I made. When we make mistakes, it can be hard to believe God is still pleased with us. Beloved, yes. Pleased, maybe not. As you enter into prayer today, think about a recent mistake. Share that moment with God and see how our loving God responds. The story of the Transfiguration reminds us that we are God’s beloved and God is pleased with us. Ash Wednesday reminds us that we are dust and, to dust we shall return. We are both loved and limited.

By the way, there are still spaces left in Coming Home, the silent weekend retreat I am co-facilitating online on March 24-26. What does your heart say?

.

Credits and References:
“Dumpster” by Bruce Fingerhood. Used with permission.
“Jump for Joy” by donds. Used with permission.
“Time” by Cale Woodley. 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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The Journey of Friendship

Posted on February 24, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Recently, a friend let me know they were upset. As I listened, I learned how upset they were and that it was partly because of something I didn’t do.

I was grateful that they told me. It was hard for them to speak up; afterward, they felt better. But I was at a loss when I heard they felt hurt because I didn’t fulfill an unnamed expectation. That’s not on me. Their deep hurt was part of their own story of disappointments and attachments. But, of course, after someone has shared so vulnerably, it’s not the time to tell them this. Yet, I wasn’t about to pick up the blame for what wasn’t my fault, and I didn’t.

My friend wanted me to be something I wasn’t. I wanted them to release me from their unreasonable expectations and take responsibility for their own feelings. 

I felt stuck and frustrated.

Eventually, I realized that I needed to take responsibility for my feelings. I was disappointed that I’d been blamed. I was frustrated that I couldn’t make another person see what I saw. I began to recognize my own story of expectations and disappointment, as well as the attachment to others thinking well of me.

As I sat in the calmness of the morning many days later, I wondered what it would be like to let go. What would it be like to allow my friend to hold onto their beliefs as long as they needed to? What would it be like to stand firmly in what I know and accept that another can’t agree?

Letting go of the need to defend myself made room for compassion. I began to feel compassion for my friend and for myself. I could trust that God was at work in both our lives and that this is part of the journey of friendship.

A friend loves at all times,
and a brother is born for a time of adversity.
–Proverbs 17:17 (NIV)

∗ ∗ ∗

A Lenten Pause

Every day God is telling us, “You are my beloved child; in you I am well pleased.”

During this season of Lent, I invite you to join me in receiving our belovedness through this Daily Prayer Practice.

Allowing ourselves to receive God’s love takes time and patience. Fear that it isn’t true can cause our bodies to tense up and limit rational thought. When something happens that confirms the fear that we’re not enough, we may feel a clenching in our chest or gut. But in the same way that it’s hard for an adamant child to keep her fist clenched for long, in the space of a few minutes, our bodies begin to relax. Fear comes and goes (unless our thoughts ramp them up again). We gain a broader perspective as we allow our feelings to settle.

Ruth Haley Barton used the illustration of pond water in a jar to explain this. Shake it up and you can’t see a thing. But over time, as the particles settle, the water becomes clear. Over time, we recall details we didn’t notice at first and gain clarity. The gift of time and patience opens us to hear God’s still, small voice from within.

Credits and References:
“Best friends” by Ian Sane. Used with permission.
“Friends” by Clint Budd. Used with permission.
“Time” by Cale Woodley. 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, Lent, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments