Hidden Beauty

Posted on June 26, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Photo by Anne Yungwirth“You have a beautiful smile,” someone said.

“I love your laugh,” I heard another say a few days later.

“You exude beauty!” a friend told me, looking right into my eyes.

I could hardly take it in. They were talking about me and my beauty. Do they see what God sees? I imagined God watching these interactions with the same delight a parent feels when their child finds the Easter basket they have hidden.

God loves to hide things for us to discover.  “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field,” Jesus said. “When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.” Mathematician Bernhard Riemann once said, “I did not invent those pairs of differential equations. I found them in the world where God had hidden them.”

What am I hearing? God has made many things–rivers, flowers, people–with obvious beauty that stuns us into silence. But God also tucks beauty away for us to discover in places we would never think to look–a hospital room, a crowded bus, our own reflection.

No one has ever stopped me on the street and said, “Gee, you’re beautiful.” My face will never be on the cover of a fashion magazine, nor will it launch a thousand ships. But, I’m discovering, that doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful.

God has hidden beauty in all of us. I enjoy discovering it in others, and I’m starting to believe they enjoy finding beauty in me.

fawn in the trees by Ed Dahl

From now on I will tell you of new things,
    of hidden things unknown to you.
–Isaiah 48:6 (NIV)

Credits and references:
Banner image: “Who Am I?” by Megan Yungwirth. Used with permission.
Hermit Crab by Anne Yungwirth. Used with permission.
Fawn in the Undergrowth by Ed Dahl. Used with permission. Matthew 13:44 (NIV).
Kathleen Norris quoted Bernhard Riemann at a writing workshop June 13, 2015 at Vancouver School of Theology.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Beauty Stares Me in the Face

Posted on June 19, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Be beautiful by ben grey

Every time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded that I don’t look very beautiful.

Ouch. Did I say that out loud?

Beauty is a sore subject with me, yet over the past few years, God has awakened me to its glory. When I experience something beautiful–standing at the ocean or watching my grandchildren play–I am transformed. Writers, like John O’Donohue, have helped me understand that beauty enables us to experience God with our senses.

For the past six months,  Doug Schroeder, the director of SoulStream community, and Jeff Imbach, one of the founding partners, and I have been working on a new SoulStream initiative: A Contemplative Response to the World. In our conversations, which take place by Skype, we realized that God is inviting our community to respond, not just to the pain and brokenness in the world, but to its beauty as well.

I enjoyed the work we were doing and looked forward to seeing Doug and Jeff’s faces pop up on my computer screen, but I didn’t like seeing mine.

No wonder I had trouble valuing beauty! From a young age, I haven’t been able to wrap my mind around a God who delights in beauty yet didn’t create me with this gift. I clung to statements like “Beauty is only skin deep” and verses like 1 Samuel 16:7, “People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” But these consoling messages
only confirmed the fact that I’m not that attractive.

Now that I knew why I was afraid to love beauty, a new way of coming to terms with it seemed possible. I felt hopeful enough to e-mail Doug and Jeff and let them know I had an “aha” moment.

The next time we skyped, Doug asked me to tell them about it. I wished I hadn’t said anything. How would I explain it to them without feeling embarrassed?

But I did. And as I did, Doug wiped tears from his eyes.

They both confessed that they didn’t like seeing their faces on the screen either.

“But, when I look at you, I see brothers that I love so much,” I said.

“That’s how we see you too!” Doug replied.

“Can you believe, when we look at you, we see someone we love?” Jeff asked.

I nodded.

If anyone had walked in on our “I love you, man!” conversation, they might have thought it was the sappiest moment in SoulStream history. But that moment helped me picture God creating me and being immensely pleased with my beauty.

Daisies by Peter Miller

  God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.
— Genesis 1:31 (NIV)

Credits and references:
“Be Beautiful” by Ben Grey. Used with permission.
“Daisies” by Peter Miller. Used with permission.
Beauty: The Invisible Embrace by John O’Donohue
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Creation, Popular Posts, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Questioned by a Strawflower

Posted on June 12, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Jpeg

Five tight buds, glossy purple lollipops, greeted me as I passed them on my way to morning prayers. Many flowers that I recognized were blooming at Twin Creeks Lodge–iris, geraniums, petunias, pansies, and daisies–but I had never seen buds like these before. By mid-morning, one had opened up to the sun. “It’s a strawflower,” someone told me.

Next morning, there were five buds again. Had I been seeing things? Where was the flower? Before noon the blossom reappeared: it closed at night and opened in the day!

Every time I passed the strawflowers during the Living from the Heart intensive, I looked to see what they were doing. And they, in turn, looked at me and asked, “Are you open or closed?”

I’m one of the facilitators of SoulStream‘s spiritual formation course. In the week-long intensive, Deb Arndt, Jeff Imbach and I introduced ancient prayer practices and explained contemplative living to the participants. We had the privilege of watching them open up to God and to one another. Our job was to help them recognize the Real Teacher in their lives.

It sounds easier than it is. At times, I was as tight as a bud, anxious that I might say or do something that would inhibit God’s work in a participant’s life. The strawflower invited me to relax and open myself to the sun. So did morning and evening prayers, the lighting of the Christ candle, the gathering of this little community as we ate, shared and laughed together. Even the rhythm of my breath–full, then empty, then full again–encouraged me to trust that God was at work in me too.

By the end of our time together, spring had ended and summer arrived. The strawflower no longer needed to retreat at night. I long for the day when I will remain open to God and bask in Love’s warmth. But for now, I sense, it’s enough to listen to the flowers.

bracteantha_magenta_500px

“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me
and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
— Matthew 11:29-30 (MSG)

Credits:
“Strawflower buds at Twin Creeks” by Fred Hizsa. Used with permission.
“Bracteantha Magenta” by Fleming’s Nurseries. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Creation, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Other Voice in My Head

Posted on June 5, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Wrong Way by Crystal

I’m doing it wrong.

The voice in my head didn’t mince words. What “it” referred to wasn’t something innocuous like following a recipe; it was my whole spiritual life.

Sometimes I’m so confident. I write confidently; I live confidently. Other times I have no idea what I am doing or why or if it really matters.

This voice in my head isn’t solely mine: it’s a collection of every voice I have ever heard, human or divine. Thankfully this composite voice is not the only one in my head. God, pure and loving, lives there too.

Slowing down enabled me to hear this destabilizing judgment. At first, it made me want to give up altogether. But as I sat with it, I heard the voice of Love. That voice said, “Hmm. You know, that wasn’t Me who said that.”

God brought to mind a dear friend who appears to be doing life all wrong (and people constantly remind him of it). I imagined God seeing him and celebrating the successes others don’t see. I know God is proud of him.

And what about me, God? Are you proud of me?

Hafiz, a fourteenth century Persian poet, once wrote, “I am a hole in a flute that Christ’s breath moves through—listen to this music.”

And this is what Hafiz played me:

It used to be
that when I would wake in the morning
I could with confidence say,
“What am ‘I’ going to
do?”
That was before the seed
cracked open.
Now Hafiz is certain:
There are two of us housed
in this body,
doing the shopping together in the market and
tickling each other
while fixing the evening’s food.
Now when I awake
all the internal instruments play the same music:
“God, what love-mischief can ‘We’ do
for the world
today?”

Confident or not, right or wrong, up or down, it doesn’t matter. Whatever I’m doing, I’m not doing it alone. There are two of us housed in this body, and as longs as One of us knows how to love, the world will be blessed.

Steveston 048copy

 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord. — Isaiah 55:8

Credits and references:
“Wrong Way” by Crystal. Used with permission.
“Seed Cracked Open” by Hafiz in The Gift by Hafiz (Author), Daniel Ladinsky (Translator). Used with permission.
“Splash!” by Anne Yungwirth. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
Posted in Poetry, Popular Posts, Poverty of Spirit, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 239 Comments

Life in the Slow Lane

Posted on May 29, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Down from Mt Brandywine

After eight slow days on the “mountain” with God, I wanted to maintain a more leisurely pace back in the valley of the shadow of life.

I took a hard look at my calendar and wondered how I was going to do everything without rushing. In addition to my usual work, I had promised to help my friend move. He had been homeless for a while and now finally found a place nearby. He didn’t have much; I could fit most of what he had temporarily stored at the church into my car. So I thought this would be a half-hour job.

The operative word here is “most.” What didn’t fit in had to be attached to a bike trailer that he built while I waited. The man’s an absolute genius with what he can construct with a set of tools and stuff destined for the dump. But it ended up taking four hours and there was nothing I could do but watch and wait.

Yet I sensed God knew that. God was fully aware of all I needed to do and–with divine wisdom–had decided I could afford to spend the afternoon this way. So I relaxed a little and went with the flow. The next day our contemplative group reflected on God’s expansive love.

What came to me in the silence was that I had joined God in loving our friend, and that meant a lot to both of them. I didn’t feel it at the time I was helping him; I had felt bored and impatient. But afterwards, when I saw the smile on my friend’s face, I felt good.

“Slow down,” God says when I am tempted to rush. “Trust me. Everything will get done on time.”

So I’m trying to engage my slow-twitch muscles. I’m taking time to listen longer to others and to myself while I bike places instead of driving. I’ve noticed that I begrudge the time it takes to prepare a meal or tidy my things. Perhaps I could learn to enjoy these activities instead.

Meanwhile, God, like a crossing guard, holds back the traffic of my life with one hand, halts the oncoming world with the other, and says, “Don’t rush her. She’s doing important work here.”

A Snail's Pace by Ken Slade

Let me serve love with my strength this day,
let me serve love with my strength.
In heart and mind and body this day
let me serve love.
— J. Philip Newell

Credits and References: “Coming down from Brandywine Mountain, B.C.” by Fred Hizsa. Used with permission. “A Snail’s Pace” by Ken Slade. used with permission. We were reflecting on Ephesians 3:14-21. Sounds of the Eternal: A Celtic Psalter by J. Philip Newell (Tuesday morning prayers)
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015. 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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Poverty of Spirit, Stories, Wednesday Lunch Club | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

When We Don’t Receive the Grace We Asked for

Posted on May 22, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

I've got nothing Garrett Charles

One more thing I want to share with you about my eight-day retreat. Following Ignatius’s example, Sylvester, my spiritual director for the week, encouraged me to ask God for the particular grace I wanted to receive from God in each prayer. For example, in one prayer I asked for the grace to have a felt knowledge of God’s love for me. In another, Sylvester suggested I ask the Holy Spirit to reveal to me what I received from my childhood.

Sometimes I received the grace I asked for, but other times I didn’t. When I talked with Sylvester about it, he wasn’t perturbed in the least. “If we don’t receive the grace we ask for, that’s all right. We can trust that God will give us what we need in due course,” he said. “However, if we feel responsible for receiving any grace, this will lead us away from God into desolation.”

That reminded me of something Sylvester explained earlier in the week. He talked about Jesus being “Lord.” He said, “That word is out of fashion these days, because we don’t have lords or subjects any more. But in Jesus’s day they did. Subjects did whatever their lord wanted and lords, knowing their subjects were completely dependent on them, took care of their every need.”

It’s hard to imagine this system working well because many lords abused their power and neglected their responsibility. But what about Lord Jesus? Now he is a lord that takes his role seriously. So much so, that he laid down his life for his subjects. Night and day he attends to every detail of our lives and does whatever it takes to enable us to receive and give love. Sometimes “whatever it takes” includes not answering our prayers the way we would like him to.

Ignatius believed that “all the things in this world are gifts of God, presented to us so that we can know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.”

“But what if I’m doing something wrong when I pray that is blocking God from giving me the wisdom or strength that I need?” I asked.

Once again Sylvester smiled at me lovingly. “You worry about God, and God will worry about you.”

That meant I don’t have to fix myself or try to be more than I am, even if being “more” would make life so much easier. All I need to do is receive what my Lord gives. Good Lord, what a concept!

Hand through Wild Grass by Lloyd Morgan

“See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labour or spin. Yet I tell
you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was dressed like one of these.
If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and
tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of
little faith? Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life… But seek first
his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you
as well.” — Matthew 6:25-33 (NIV)

 

Credits and references:
“I’ve Got Nothing” by Garrett Charles. Used with permission.
An excerpt from Principal and Foundation of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises,  paraphrased by David L. Fleming.
“Hand in Wild Grass” by Lloyd Morgan. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com

 

Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Prayer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

Posted on May 15, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

leaves by Paul

I can’t spend a whole week on retreat with a holy God and not be confronted with my sins, I thought. Yet every time Sylvester assigned scriptures for me to pray with, it never came up. I started to believe I was going to avoid the painful subject altogether.

However, I did notice that God brought a number of things to my awareness. I saw ways in which I looked at others or myself that could be framed in a different light. For example, instead of comparing myself to someone and feeling inadequate, I could be thankful that God gave them the grace to do what was needed. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I had been judgemental.

Blemish by Dave Shafer

God’s gentleness reminded me of a quote by Julian of Norwich, who lived in the fourteenth century. She said.  “The mark of sovereign friendship of our courteous Lord is that he keeps us so tenderly while we are in sin; and furthermore he touches us so secretly and shows us our sin by the sweet light of mercy and grace.”

In one of my prayer periods, I watched a “sinful” woman wash Jesus’s feet with her tears and anoint them with perfume and saw his grateful response. In another, Jesus washed my feet just as tenderly. First he wept over all my suffering, taking every hurtful slight and painful action I had experienced onto himself. Then he kissed my feet, absorbing all the suffering I have caused others.

Although foot washing was a lowly job, Jesus didn’t begrudge doing it or scold me for getting my feet dirty. He wanted to do it. It was his way of showing me the full extent of his love.

Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love.  — John 13:1 (NIV, 1978)

Credits and references:
“Autumn Leaves 2” by Paul. used with permission.
“Blemish” by Dave Shafer. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Poverty of Spirit, Prayer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

My Soul Speaks

Posted on May 8, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Christ and the Samaritan womanJesus kept his promise. During my eight-day retreat, he showed himself to me as I prayed with biblical stories and imagined myself as Hannah, the woman by the well, a child playing with Jesus, and the apostle Peter.

“When you pray, ask for the grace to receive an interior knowledge of God’s faithfulness and care for you,” Sylvester, the spiritual director, suggested at one of our daily meetings.

Pride nudged me. “You mean a deeper knowledge than I already have,” I said.

He smiled. “Each time we are given a grace, it’s a new gift.”

The story of Hannah and how God answered her prayer to bear a child reminded me of times in my life when God used adversity to bring forth life. I felt grateful that God remembered me like he did her.

But in my prayers, the Spirit didn’t just want to remind me of things, the Spirit wanted to listen. Being assured of God’s faithfulness and care enabled my soul to speak frankly.

When the woman at the well saw Jesus as just one more person without a bucket who wanted something from her, I realized I felt that way sometimes too. In another prayer, I pictured Jesus with the children and was invited to be one of them. I sobbed, “I don’t want to be a child. It’s not safe; adults can’t be trusted.” Later in the week, I shared Peter’s anguish that, despite my best intentions, I hadn’t kept my promises to God.

As each thought was voiced, the Spirit seemed to say, “I know. I know.”

The Trinity tenderly responded to my confessions of prejudice, fear and failure as each story unfolded in my imagination. At the well, Jesus revealed himself to me as the Messiah and gave me living water. When I asked him where I would find this water, he showed me the seemingly bucketless people in my life. Despite appearances, they have much to offer me. Living water flows in them, and I was encouraged to drink deeply.

Jesus with childrenAfter I watched Jesus with the children, the Trinity crouched down and made the frightened child in me an offer: What if we adopt you? Then I saw God in the faces of women who have loved me like a mother, and men who have cared for me like a father.

And when the rooster crowed, Jesus looked right at me and loved me the same way he always does: without a shred of disappointment in his eyes. These moments were new gifts indeed. They blessed my soul and set it free.

Jesus said, “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” —John 14:18

Credits and References:
Christ and the Woman of Samaria II by Guercino (Giovanni Francesco Barbieri), 1591–1666
Jesus with Children, artist unknown.
1 Samuel 1; John 4; 1-26; Matthew 18:1-5; Luke 22:54-62
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Prayer, Praying with the Imagination | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Eight Days Alone with God

Posted on May 1, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

Silent Prayer by Neil GallopAfter a long kiss goodbye, Fred drove off.  I brushed off my nervousness and unpacked my things. It didn’t take long–just clothes, knitting needles and yarn, my Bible, notebook and a copy of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. No computer, no other books, no phone.  For the next week, even though I was with friends at the retreat centre, the only person I would talk to was God and my spiritual director, a young Jesuit named Sylvester.

At our first meeting, Sylvester asked me to tell him a bit about my life. Then he suggested a few passages of scripture to begin praying with. He said, “Spend an hour praying with the passage. Don’t study it; imagine yourself in it. Allow yourself to enter into a conversation the Trinity is having about you.”

十字架 CrossThat evening, I went into the chapel to pray. I could still smell the incense from Vespers. After that service, Sylvester had turned the crucifix and large Bible on the altar to face the Blessed Sacrament. Then he genuflected.

I bowed my head and prayed, as Ignatius directed, asking for the grace that all my “intentions, actions and operations be directed purely to the service and praise of His Divine Majesty.” My heart beat with longing that it be so.

I turned to John 14 and was drawn by Jesus’s statement, “I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.” I pictured myself completely immersed in love. It felt spacious, safe and peaceful.

Further on in the passage, Jesus said five times that, after he died, he would come back and show himself to them. Was Jesus promising to show himself to me too?

The next morning, I sat on my bed and prayed, cradling a cup of hot tea. In Isaiah, the Trinity exuberantly invited me to come and satisfy my soul with rich food. God’s word would not return empty; God promised, “I will accomplish what I desire.”

What did the Trinity desire for me?

Sylvester told us that morning in a short lecture, “God is love and love requires a recipient. You can’t just love. You have to love something or someone. God is love because God is Three Persons–Father, Son and Holy Spirit–loving each other. And God created us to share their love.”

I felt a flutter in my chest. God’s great desire–more than anything else–was that I be shown that love for eight days straight.

Redemption by Miwok

As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. — Isaiah 55:10-11

Credits and references:
“Silent Prayer” by Neil Gallop.
“Cross” by Dennis Wong. used with permission.
“Redemption” by Miwok. Used with permission.
The Spiritual Exercises of St.Ignatius of Loyola (1419-1556), annotation 46.
John 14:20; Isaiah 55:2,11
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Prayer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

As Good as It Gets

Posted on April 24, 2015 by Esther Hizsa

I don’t get to enjoy my spiritual growth spurt for long before I’m made aware of more shortcomings. And not imaginary ones either. I’m talking significant habits that drive people up the wall. My first reaction is to cocoon, my second is to draw up a plan to fix myself. Thankfully wisdom intervenes, and I finally sit with God in my disappointment and sadness.

And what does God do? God doesn’t protect me from reality, nor is God intent on fixing me. Instead, God holds me in my sadness, looks at me and loves me.

When God looks at me, I am not viewed through a lens that filters out my imperfections, nor am I seen as I was when first created, or how I will be when I become my true self. No. God sees me as I am–here, now–and loves me. God is not disappointed with me in the least.

As this truth settles into the core of my being, my sadness dissipates. I begin to feel alive and energized. I can trust the mysterious work of God and am at peace with how God does or doesn’t transform me.

ready to Burst by Anne Yungwirth

A question emerges. What if this is as good as it gets?

What if I never become that person I long to be? What if my shortcomings never leave and I am compelled to survive by perpetually returning to God’s life-giving gaze? And what if God is okay with that?

If that is true, then there is no place I need to get to, nothing that must be attained, and no one else I need to be. The Soul of Christ prayer says, “Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given.”

It also says, “On each of my dyings, shed your light and your love.” I don’t need my shortcomings to die, I need to die to the thought that they render me unlovable.

Jesus looked at him and loved him. –Mark 10:21 (NIV)

Credits and references:
“Ready to Burst” by Anne Yungwirth. Used with permission.
Soul of Christ translated by David L. Fleming.
Thanks to my SoulStream community for helping me understand this. Especially, thanks to Jeff Imbach for leading the Living Flame of Love retreat which helped me hear this marvellous truth and to my spiritual director Karen Webber for helping me receive it.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
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, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
Posted in Poverty of Spirit | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments