The Invisible Gardener

Dormant fern garden by Jay PastoreWhat feelings emerged for you when you read last Friday’s post? Perhaps you were drawn to that idyllic picture of God and prayer, yet frustrated because it’s nothing like your experience. Perhaps for you, prayer is as dry and unattractive as a dead plant, and the garden of your inner life suffering from neglect.

Stay right there for a moment. What is your disappointment saying to you? Does it speak of a longing for the Gardener to return and bring forth beauty?

Share that longing with God. Even if you don’t feel God’s presence or sense that you have been heard, entertain the thought that God is with you and listening.

“Where can I go from your Spirit?” asks David rhetorically in Psalm 139. Paul could tell the Philippians to rejoice in all circumstances because he knew God was near. Jesus himself said, “I will be with you always.”

Sprout by Dixieroadrash

God is always actively loving us–even when we don’t experience God or see change, even when we can’t pray.  The writer of Hebrews helps us to believe that. “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

Even when we don’t feel God’s presence or see growth in our garden, God has not stopped tending us. The fact that we long for God is evidence that the Spirit has been at work in our lives.

 

References and credits:
Psalm 139:7; Philippians 4:5; Matthew 28:20; Hebrews 11:1
“Dormant Fern Garden” by Jay Pastore. Used with permission.
“Sprout” by Dixeroadrash. Used with permission.
Banner: IMGPO854 vege garden by Rae Allen. 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 Poverty of Spirit, Prayer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Gardener

Night Prayer by Michael Cook

How powerless the soil is to produce anything on its own.

I am praying with Jesus’s parable of the sower and the seed. I can relate. No matter how hard I try, those three unreceptive soils are in me, impeding a harvest.

Birds pick up hopeful seeds from rocky places where I am spiritually asleep and need to be wakened to a new awareness of my surroundings, of others or of myself. More rocks beneath the earth won’t let my desire to honour God take root. A third place is overgrown with thorns of attachment, concern, and anxiety. I’m often too preoccupied with my thoughts or overwhelmed by my feelings to turn to God. In these dull patches, life is dormant. Even in the good soil, where my heart is eager and ready to respond to God, I am unable to do so without seeds. I can do nothing but wait on God to garden and seed me. 

As I pray with these images, I ache for God to do just that. 

A picture comes to mind. While I pray, Jesus is gardening me. I can see by the look on his face, that of all the things he loves to do, this is his favourite. I suspect he cherishes every opportunity he has to tend my soil. 

Jesus wastes no time while I sit in silence. I watch him collect rocks and stones in his outstretched shirt then dump them into a pile with delight. I continue to pray and he takes a shovel, puts his foot atop the blade, and presses it hard into the dirt. He digs and tosses and digs and tosses until he meets the satisfying ding of resistance. Then, casting the shovel aside, he crouches down while his fingers find the offending rock. He groans and heaves until it is loosed, lifted, and thrust it away.

After wiping his brow with the back of his hand, my sweet gardener relaxes against a maple and refreshes himself with the words of my noontime prayer:

Lord, we pause at noon from work and activity
To remember the many gifts
that come from Your heart. . . 

Once rested, Jesus puts on gloves and begins uprooting those pesky thorns.

Even while I go about my day, Jesus continues to work, shamelessly climbing over the wall whenever I forget to open the gate.

At vespers he straightens his back and dips his hand into the bag of cool seeds. Then he flings them into my rich dark earth.

“Amen,” he says with me at the end of night prayers.

“Amen,” I reply, “amen.”

Sower

Again Jesus began to teach by the lake. The crowd that gathered around him was so large that he got into a boat and sat in it out on the lake, while all the people were along the shore at the water’s edge. He taught them many things by parables, and in his teaching said: “Listen! A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow.But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants, so that they did not bear grain. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, some multiplying thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times.”

Then Jesus said, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.”

. . . 13 Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t you understand this parable? How then will you understand any parable? 14 The farmer sows the word. 15 Some people are like seed along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and takes away the word that was sown in them. 16 Others, like seed sown on rocky places, hear the word and at once receive it with joy.17 But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 18 Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word; 19 but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful. 20 Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop—some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown.” –Mark 4:-9,13-20 (NIV)

Credits:
Night Prayer by Michael Cook. Used with permission.
Noon Prayer of the SoulStream Community.
“Sower in Setting Sun” by Vincent Van Gogh.
Banner: Parable of the Sower by Madison Murphy. 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 Mystical, Popular Posts, Poverty of Spirit, Prayer, Praying with the Imagination | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Supervision Examen: An Ignatian reflection for spiritual directors

PARA IMPRESSÃO jack JewellHere is a helpful reflection for spiritual directors to use after offering spiritual direction.

After offering spiritual direction, take some time to pray with what transpired. Begin by opening yourself to Christ’s presence. Descend with your mind into your heart and look into Jesus’s eyes. See his delight in you. This depiction of Jesus by Jack Jewell might help. Remember that Jesus isn’t interested in measuring your performance; he only desires to actively love you.

  1. Consolation: When did you experience consolation during the direction session? Consolation draws you toward God and is often experienced as a feeling of joy, peace, or wholeness. However, unpleasant feelings, such as sadness, boredom or helplessness, can also draw us closer to God. Take a few minutes to be with Jesus savouring your consolation. Talk with him about it. Is there anything else Jesus would like you to notice or receive?
  2. Desolation: When did you experience desolation during spiritual direction? Desolation draws you away from God and is often experienced as an unpleasant feeling such as anger or frustration. However, a pleasant feeling such as confidence or elation can also draw us away from God. Talk with Jesus about was going on in the session that evoked this desolation. How would Jesus like to be with you in this?
  3. Dialogue: If you prepared a verbatim, look closely at your part of the dialogue. Circle the statements or questions that drew the directee into their hearts and opened them to God. Underline what did you said that drew them into their heads or got them thinking about life or God. Take a few minutes to be with Jesus as you consider what you underlined. Invite the Holy Spirit to reveal to you what was going on for you in those moments. Talk with Jesus about it. Allow Jesus to speak or reveal himself to you in some way. If you become aware of an unfreedom or fear, ask Jesus for the grace you need or consider talking about this with your spiritual director.
  4. Gifts for your directee: Notice what the Holy Spirit did for your directee in the session. Give thanks for the grace you were given to lead your directee deeper. Give thanks that God will use whatever you did to deepen God’s love for your directee.
  5. Gifts for you: Name something you received from God in this direction session. Perhaps an image or insight that was given to your directee was particularly meaningful to you as well. Why might God be giving this to you now? What is God’s invitation?
  6. Let go; give thanks: Now, let go of all happened and didn’t happen. Give thanks for gifts received and God’s loving kindness for your directee and for you.
 Credits
“Risen Christ by the Sea” by Jack Jewell, 1985.
Special thanks to Father Richard Soo, SJ who has led me through something like this at a JSAV retreat.
© 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, 2014,15  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Resource, Spiritual Direction | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

We Are Not as Strong as We Think We Are

sad creature by quantum bunnyI’m thinking about the things I do that hurt others and how I wish I wouldn’t do them. Thankfully, I have come to believe that God doesn’t despise me when I sin. Before I catch myself doing something wrong or even when I am unaware of it, God looks at me with love. So I don’t despise myself either when I act unkindly. But I don’t want to keep doing it.

The apostle Paul shared my dilemma. The Message translation put it this way, “It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God’s commands, but it’s pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.  I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope.”

strong like bull by Irene NobregaI’m at the end of my rope too. Some difficult things are so easy to do while other seemingly simple things are not. I think I should just be able to do them and am tempted to berate myself. Come on. What’s the matter with you? Is it that hard to resist saying a critical word or stop taking more than your share? The honest answer is: Yes. It is very hard for me. To quote Rich Mullins, “We are not as strong as we think we are.”

Paul asks, “Is there no one who can do anything for me?”

There is, Paul goes on to say: Jesus. Jesus will help me speak kindly and resist temptation. Even before I ask him, he helps me become aware of my sin. He also works behind the scenes to free me from whatever happened in the past that compels me to do wrong.

And he helps me ask for the grace I need to make the hard things easier.

We are frail;
we are fearfully and wonderfully made,
forged in the fires of human passion
choking on the fumes of selfish rage.
And with these, our hells and our heavens,
so few inches apart,
we must be awfully small
and not as strong as we think we are.
–Rich Mullins 

Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn’t that the real question?  The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does.  —Romans 7:24, 25 (The Message)

References and credits:
Romans 7:21-25
“We Are Not as Strong as We Think We Are” from the album Songs by Rich Mullins, 1996. Used with permission.
“Sad_Creature” by quantum bunny. Used with permission.
“Strong Like Bull” by Irene Nobrega. Used with permission.
Post banner: “TakeTone_Cements_0013” by Donghee Bae. 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 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

In the Shelter of God’s Wings

I imagine myself in the shelter of God’s wings, safe and warm. Angels relieve me of my duties. I can hang up the worries of my day, click off my brain, and rest.

Be still, I tell myself, close your eyes and savour the rest.

Seconds later my eyes are open, my body tense. I can’t stop thinking about my son, Rudy. He hurt his ankle at work and has hobbled around for days. How can I get him to go to the doctor?

I need to get up. I’m overheating in these feathers. I need to…

“Let it go. You need to rest,” says a voice.

Yes. I have come to rest in God’s delicate down, to be still and pray.

As I feel myself relax again, I wonder if the Good Samaritan was praying on his way from Jerusalem to Jericho. Maybe that’s why he saw the injured man.

I can’t believe it. I’m lying here in the shadow of God’s wings thinking of my next sermon. Oh well, maybe I should get up and write this down.

“No sermon writing!” says the same gravelly voice I heard earlier.

This voice isn’t God’s. It’s the angel sitting next to me—and I swear he’s just smoked a cigarette. He lowers his newspaper slightly. I see his pale blue eyes and unshaved cheeks. “Rest.” He wags his forefinger at me. “That’s all God wants you to do right now. Rest.”

He raises the sports section against my objections. I lie back down and blow off the feather that tickles my upper lip. Beads of sweat collect on the bridge of my nose. These wings feel like a straight jacket.

Feather 1 Jim ChampionThe angel lowers his newspaper again. “Beginning is always hard. Just let the thoughts wash over you. It’ll get easier.”

But it doesn’t. Acidic bile springs into my throat. A sudden cramp makes me hug my knees to my chest. “What’s going on? This isn’t comfy at all. I feel like I’m in a detox ward,” I tell him.

“In a way you are,” he says.

“What? I thought I came here to pray. Why would I need to dry out? I’ve never had more than two glasses of wine in an evening. Never done drugs. What do I need to detox from?”

“Your compulsive thoughts,” he answers. “Everybody’s got them. You’re so used to them you don’t realize how much they run your life.”

“So I’m here in the shadow of God’s wings to detoxify my brain?”

“More or less. Yeah.”

“This is prayer?” I tighten the grip on my knees against the second wave of cramps.

A female angel enters to relieve her colleague. “My goodness, it reeks in here,” she says to him. “How can you stand it?” The new angel brushes past me and yanks open a window. She inhales deeply. The cool air makes the perspiration on my neck tingle. She introduces herself and sits down, crossing one leg over the other. She wears support hose and a crisp white uniform.

“You’re doing fine. You’ve been praying for what? Seven and a half minutes, nearly eight. Give God another five or ten more, and you’ll be surprised by what he does with it.”

I wait a while longer. The no-nonsense angel crosses her arms and taps her forefinger on one elbow. She watches my distractions emerge, taunt me, and then leave. One look from
her tells them they are not welcome to return. When the last one departs, so does she, quietly closing the door behind her.

Finally I am alone with soft feathers and silence. In the solitude, I hear God’s heart beating. Or is it mine? Or is it both? We are connected by a wordless umbilical cord.

This is prayer?

This is prayer.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
Will rest in the shadow of the Almighty…
He will cover you with his feathers
And under his wings you will find refuge.
– Psalm 91:1,4

Credits and notes:
Feather 1 by Jim Champion. Used with permission.
“In the Shelter of God’s Wings”,  first published in the Mennonite Herald, October 2010,  is also in Stories of an Everyday Pilgrim by Esther Hizsa, 2015.
© 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 Popular Posts, Prayer, Stories, Stories of an Everyday Pilgrim | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Gifts

One Thousand Gifts Devotional by Ann VoskampOn December 23, I was in Value Village when I remembered I needed to buy one last Christmas gift. I perused the books in the Religion and Spirituality section and came across two pristine copies of Ann Voskamp’s devotional, One Thousand Gifts.  It’s based on the story of how Voskamp recognized God’s grace in her daily life and discovered the power of gratitude. It’d be perfect for my friend. I didn’t know what I would do with the second copy, but I bought them both.

The next day another friend called belatedly to accept my offer to come for Christmas dinner. I could give the second book to her. God knew what I needed, I thought, without fully realizing how unusual the find was. Since then, I have been to a number of thrift stores and have not seen many books I wanted to buy for myself, let alone give as gifts.

I felt grateful for God’s attentiveness to our needs and humbled by it too. After all, I want God to look after my needs, but I don’t like giving up control of when or how those needs are met.

But as I struggle to let go of control, God continues to give: food and health, good work and rest, sunsets and beginnings, a kind word, a loving embrace, a rescue in the nick of time. Sometimes the gift is being able to look back on a difficult time and see how it has become a blessing. God loves taking care of us. The question is: will I let go and let God do it?

A Daisy Day in May by Brent M

“If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best
for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and
the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.”
Matthew 6:30-33 (The Message)

Credits:
One Thousand Gifts Devotional by Ann Voskamp, 2012. Photo by Dayspring.
“A Daisy Day in May” by Brent M. Used with permission.
Banner: “Floral Themed Gift Wrap” by Josh. 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 Christmas, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Fire!

Dec 29 fire by bcfiretrucks“There’s a fire. A woman’s screaming for help,” my husband said and ran out the door.

I followed Fred across the lawn to the townhouse building next to ours. Smoke billowed out the front door of an upstairs unit. Someone was calling 911 while others stood frozen.

A man and woman stayed near the burning building; they looked terrified. “Is anyone still in there?” Fred asked them. When they didn’t answer, he put both hands on the man’s shoulders and used his policeman’s voice to ask the question again.

“My son,” he answered.

“The fire’s too big. We can’t get in,” a neighbour said.

Fred went around the building to where the bedroom windows were and heard screaming from inside. “Get the big ladder,” Fred told Michael, the resident caretaker.

“It’s locked and I don’t have the key.”

Fred took me aside. “Pray,” he said, “and go guide the fire truck in.”

A few minutes later the fire truck arrived. “A boy’s still in there,” I hollered. “Bring a ladder.”

Before the firefighters got to the house, the boy was brought to them. His face was blackened and wet with tears. “He’s breathing,” someone said.

I found Fred not far away.  “What happened?” I asked.

“I got him out,” Fred replied. I hugged and hugged him.

The firefighters gathered their equipment. I could see flames now and more smoke poured out of the building.

“Let’s go home,” Fred said. “You don’t want to breathe in this stuff.”

Fire 3 bc firetruck

A while later a policeman knocked on our door. He wanted to investigate what happened. After getting the details, he offered Fred medical assistance. “I’m fine,” Fred said.

“Your neighbours are calling you a hero,” the R.C.M.P. officer said.

Fred shrugged it off. “I used to be a member. I’ve been in situations like this before.”

Later that evening, two firemen also came to the door and so did the neighbour who tried three times to get through the fire to the boy. They all thanked Fred for what he did.

“I heard Demetri cry out from his room and I had to do something,” Fred told me when we were alone. Tears clouded his eyes. “No one knew what to do, so I took charge. I told Michael to get bolt cutters. We got the ladder and I went up it not knowing what I would find. I took the screen off the window and saw an orange glow and the room filled with smoke. Demetri was on his bed whimpering. He came to me as soon as I called him. He took my arm and I carried him down.”

The emergency vehicles left sometime after midnight. “My hero,” I said to the man who is rarely in the limelight.

The next morning I asked Fred how he slept.

“Not great. I kept having flashbacks of fires I attended when I was working for the R.C.M.P.,” he said. “It opened up boxes I haven’t looked in for a long time.”

“What did you remember?”

He told me about the times people died. He described horrific sights and smells.  I heard the anguish that had been locked away for decades.

And so did God. God knew how badly Fred had wanted to help those people. Finally he was given the opportunity to save someone’s child.

 In Jesus 3

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. – Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)

 

 

 

Credits:
Photos of “Child Rescued from Townhouse Fire in Burnaby (Dec 29, 2014)” by bcfiretrucks. Used with permission.
The statue was carved for Father Thomas Green, SJ (1932-2009) by Joe Crawford, December 1988.  Steve Imbach writes, “We visited Father Tom in the Philippines and when our visit with him was over he told us to take it home; it was ours.  It now sits in the room I offer direction in.”
© 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 Popular Posts, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Uninvited Guests

Jan Cornelisz Vermeyen--The calling of St John during the marriage at Cana.1530On Christmas we entertained family and friends for most of the day. We enjoyed every guest that came. But visitors are not always easy to have around. They may come late, stay too long, or forget what they promised to bring. Inevitably someone will do something that unsettles another.

Our feelings are like guests. Some are more enjoyable than others. Yet Rumi invites us to welcome them all. Why? Because we can encounter God in them.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

 – Jelaluddin Rumi
(translation by Coleman Barks)

Credits:
The calling of St John during the marriage at Cana. 1530 by Jan Cornelisz Vermeyen
“The Guest House” in The Essential Rumi by Rumi translated by Coleman Barks. Used with permission.
Banner: “Winter in Merstham Feb 2012” by Berit Watkin. Used with permission.
© 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  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
Posted in Christmas, Ignatian Spirituality | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The Word Became Flesh

Emmanuel

when Jesus came
he didn’t sneak in
through the back door
of poverty selling
magic tricks for
applause

no

Jesus came poor
entered every day
of every life
and never
left

nativity by violscraper

The Word became flesh and blood,
    and moved into the neighbourhood.
We saw the glory with our own eyes,
    the one-of-a-kind glory,
    like Father, like Son,
Generous inside and out,
    true from start to finish.
-John 1:14 (The Message)

Credits:
“Emmanuel” by Esther Hizsa © 2014
“Nativity”  by violscraper Used with permission.
“Star Walkers” by Paul Kline. (Banner not visible on home page) Used with permission.
© 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  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
Posted in Advent, Christmas, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Encountering God in Our Emotions

The Christmas season tends to evoke a range of emotion in us. While we express tidings of comfort and joy, we may feel anything but comforted or joyful. It’s good to pay attention to those unsettling feelings and listen to what they are saying.

“Why would I want to do that?” you may ask. “Won’t that get me into trouble or make me feel worse?”

factfaithfeeling

Perhaps you recall this train from Campus Crusade’s Four Spiritual Laws. Fact is the engine, Faith is the coal car; and Feeling, the caboose. The point of the illustration is that Christians need to rely on the truth of God’s word to guide them no matter what they are feeling. “The train will run with or without a caboose,” the booklet explains.

This is helpful advice for new believers who experience emotions that can derail their unseasoned faith. But as we mature, we need to take another look at the feeling caboose. We still don’t want it driving the train, but we have to stop uncoupling it from our lives. Our feelings, even the unpleasant ones, are holy ground. We can encounter God in them.

To do that, we must first become aware of God’s presence. St.Theophan the Recluse, a nineteenth century Russian Orthodox priest, said, “To pray is to descend with the mind into the heart and there to stand before the face of the Lord, ever-present, all-seeing, within you.” So begin there. With your mind, imagine yourself meeting Christ in the core of your being. Stand before him. Look at him looking at you with love.

In his loving presence, tell Jesus about the event that incited the strong feeling you experience. It may help to picture the emotion as an angry cat, hair-raised and pacing. Now name the feeling. For example, it could be jealousy or loneliness. Don’t judge it or analyze it. Just let it hiss and meow there with you and Jesus. When there is a bit of space between you and your feeling, ask it what it wants to tell you. You may hear something like “I feel invisible when other people get the attention I crave” or “There’s something wrong with me; that’s why I’m alone.”

Watch how Jesus responds when he hears what your feelings say. Notice his compassion. What does he do and say next? Underneath your words is a longing Jesus wants to fill.

Once you’ve been with Jesus there, you’ll find your feisty feeling curled up in your lap, as harmless as a kitten. And you, having encountered the living God, will be transformed.

Cat by Kevin Dooley

 Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
       – Psalm 139: 7,8 (NIV)

References and credits:
First quote from Four Spiritual Laws by Campus Crusade
Second quote from Sanctuary of the Soul: Journey into Meditative Prayer by Richard J. Foster (pg 35).
“Cat” by Kevin Dooley. Used with permission.
“Angry Pflümli” by Tambako the Jaguar  (banner not visible on home page). Used with permission.
Thanks to Jeff Imbach who taught me this in Living from the Heart.  
© 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  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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