God, Here?

Posted on May 9, 2014 by Esther Hizsa
John the Baptist gecomprimeerd Geertgen tot Sint Jans wikimedia

John the Baptist looks forlorn. I can almost hear him sigh. He is so discouraged by the Messiah, who isn’t what he expected, that he cannot see the beauty around him or the Lamb of God beside him.

This painting has been dubbed John the Baptist with big feet. Doesn’t he remind us of ourselves? We struggle so hard, do so much to help others. And when things don’t turn out the way we expected, we are disappointed. What else can I do? we say. I’m at the end of my rope.

Yes. That is precisely the place where we find God: at the end of our rope, when there is nothing more we can do. God is waiting for us there.

If the Lamb could talk, he would likely say to John, Thank you for preparing the way for me. Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I promised. You’ll see.

And what would Jesus, sitting beside you in your helplessness, say next? Perhaps you should ask him.

Disappointment. Discouragement. Helplessness. These are unexpected thin places where God dwells as surely and as beautifully as a beach near Tofino or a cabin on Bowen.

When I shared my poem about thin places and Jaison Cianelli’s painting with artists in my church, two women were inspired to write a song. Here is the refrain:

I have stumbled on a place where
the air is thin.
In the midst of wilderness
God is closer than my breath.
It doesn’t make any sense.

In the midst of wilderness, nothingness, and brokenness, they wrote, “God is closer than my breath.” In the midst of loneliness, despair and helplessness, God will come and sit beside us, comfort us and open our eyes to see more than our disappointments.

The Lord is near. -Philippians 4:5b

Credits:
“John the Baptist” by Aukje Bos-Geertsema, 1485.
“Closer than My Breath” by Mindy Ogden and Sarah Yungwirth, 2014.
© 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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Thin Places

Posted on May 2, 2014 by Esther Hizsa
transfiguration-jaison-cianelli

God Is Waiting There 

I know a place
where God dwells, the heart whispers.
Let us go there.

Why, God is
everywhere, the head replies. There is
no place where God is not.

Yes, says the heart, but there are thin places
where earth and heaven touch.
God is waiting for us there.

Some places are sacred to me: my friend’s cabin on Bowen Island, Battleship Islands on Garibaldi Lake, and Black Sage Road that weaves through the vineyards between Oliver and Osoyoos. Each place evokes a visceral memory of an encounter with God. These experiences were so profound that my body remembers them with a flutter of awe whenever I imagine myself there.

“A favourite place of mine is a particular trail and beach on Vancouver Island near Tofino,” writes Mike Stewart, an Anglican priest. “Every time I visit the area, I am touched again by God’s friendship. Once when I was staying with friends there, I had a sudden desire to visit the trail and beach. In my heart I knew Jesus was waiting for me to get there. As I walked the beach alone, I heard him speaking to me in the ocean wind, ‘I will always  be your friend.’ ‘Lord,’ I replied, ‘And I yours.'”

Tofino, untouched by Tony Horabin

How lovely is your dwelling place,
    O Lord of hosts!
My soul longs, indeed it faints
    for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh sing for joy
    to the living God.
Even the sparrow finds a home,
    and the swallow a nest for herself,
    where she may lay her young,
at your altars, O Lord of hosts,
    my King and my God.
Happy are those who live in your house,
    ever singing your praise.
                    – Psalm 84:1-4 (NRSV)


Credits:
“God is Waiting There” by Esther Hizsa, 2014.
“Transfiguration” by Jaison Cianelli. Used with permission.
Quote from No Crowds Present by Mike Stewart, Fresh Wind Press, 2007.
“Tofino, untouched” by Tony Horabin. 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 Mystical, Poetry, Popular Posts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

A Retreat with God

Posted on April 25, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Bowen Island by Neil BrockAs I prepared to go to Bowen Island for a three-day retreat, I got a divine nudge. “Leave your laptop at home,” God seemed to say. “Just come and be with me.”

But I couldn’t possibly write much without my electronic friend. Hmm. I think that was God’s point.

My job was to rest and pray. Not very exciting. Every day I kept waiting for something to happen, but I didn’t have any breakthroughs or prophetic insights. My journal asked me what I was feeling. The anticlimactic answer was: relaxed. Acting as my own spiritual director, I pressed in. “Do you have a sense of how God is feeling about that?” I asked myself. “Pleased, I suppose,” I answered.

I sat on a rock by the shore and watched the birds. They were more restless than I was. One or another was always fluttering their wings or changing allegiances.  A seal popped her head up and then disappeared. The clouds shifted, ferries came and went, as I watched and waited with God.

Back at the cottage where I was staying, I sipped Rooibos tea and read this:

Author and speaker Brennan Manning tells the story of an Irish priest
who, on a walking tour of a rural parish, sees an old peasant kneeling by
the side of the road praying. Impressed, the priest says to the man, “You
must be very close to God.” The peasant looks up from his prayers, thinks
for a moment, and then smiles and replies, “Yes, he is very fond of me.”

And that’s when I felt my heart strangely warmed.

I had thought that if we knew how deeply God loves us, we would become our true selves. I no longer believe that. We already know we are loved. We talk about it, write about it, and sing about it. Yet we go on living as if it didn’t matter.

No. We become our true selves when we allow God to love us. And that’s what was happening as I rested in the company of God, who is very fond of me.

Kathrin Burleson“I have loved you with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.”
– Jeremiah 31:3

Credits:
“Bowen Island” by Neil Brock. Used with permission.
Quote from No Crowds Present by Mike Stewart, Fresh Wind Press, 2007.
Painting by Kathrin Burleson. 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 Mystical, Popular Posts, Prayer, Spiritual Direction, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Go Pray Outside

Posted on April 21, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

forest 26 Twila Savigny

“Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed,” Jesus said, “But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” Similarly these vibrant evergreens have each grown from a single seed buried in the earth. In springtime their continued growth is seen in the soft, light green tips of their branches.

Everywhere new life is emerging from winter’s tomb: cherry trees blossom, goslings waddle in a row, baby birds chirp from their nests. The earth is not silent; it is joyously proclaiming, “Christ has risen. He has risen indeed.”

Texture 2 Tila SavignyThe first mandate God gave us was to tend Earth’s glorious garden and the many creatures
who live in it. Thousands of years later, Jesus commanded us to love God and love our neighbour.  That doesn’t mean we forget our original call to care for creation. Jesus said those two commands summed up all the others, including the very first one. What we love, we will care for.

Go pray outside. Celebrate Earth Day with your other neighbours: the succulent shrub and blossoming vine, as well as ants, beavers, and eagles. Join the universal choir of rocks and trees, skies and seas that declare their Maker’s praise, breathe life on the earth, and still our hearts with awe.

Rain drop #6 twila Savigny This is my Father’s world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings, and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought of rocks and trees,
of skies and seas;
his hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world,
the birds their carols raise,
the morning light, the lily white,
declare their maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
he shines in all that’s fair;
in the rustling grass I hear him pass;
he speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world.
O let me ne’er forget
that though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!

Credits and references:
Photographs by Twila Savigny. Used with permission.
“This Is My Father’s World”  by Maltbie D. Babcock, 1901.
Scripture reference:  John 12:24 (NIV); Genesis 2:15; Luke 10:27 (NIV).
© 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 Creation, Popular Posts, Prayer, Songs | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Christ Has Risen

Posted on April 19, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

The Incredulity of St. Thomas by Carivaggio. 1601-2“The Incredulity of St. Thomas” by Caravaggio, 1601-2

The Incredulity of Thomas

Incredulity.
Words are wasted on his
impenetrable mind:
“Unless I see,
unless I touch.”

Incredulity
guards the heart
seals the tomb
from disappointment.

“Thomas!”
Voice charged,
words spark.
“See.
Touch.”

Incredulity
reaches out,
flesh toward flesh
until–

hope arcs
current flows.

One mind, one heart, one joy.

 

Credits:
“The Incredulity of St. Thomas” by Caravaggio, 1601-2
“The Incredulity of Thomas” by Esther Hizsa, 2014.
Scripture reference: John 20:24-29
© 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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Christ Has Died

Posted on April 18, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

the_entombment_of_christ

Homeless

they take
him
down from the cross
his
PUTcold body pierced
PUTbruised mouth silenced
PUTsoft eyes blind

as he began
now at end
PUTwrapped in cloth strips
PUTlaid in wrong place
helpless
God

stone heaved
tomb sealed
sudden scream
PUTmine

guards curse
push me
PUT“Go home!”

can’t

have none
PUTbut
PUThim

Credits:
“Entombment of Christ” by Caravaggio, 1602-3.
“Homeless” by Esther Hizsa, 2014.
© 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 Easter, Holy Week, Lent, Poetry, Popular Posts | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

With Christ in Glory

Posted on April 17, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

thief

I look at the naked, bloodied body next to me. “What’s he doing here?”

A sinless man is being crucified beside us: me on his left, the other criminal on his right. The crucified always die in disgrace, our lives held up as negative examples.

Yet, he is good. People called him rabbi, healer, messiah, saviour, Son of God. At birth they called him Emmanuel: “God with us.” God with us in life. Now, God with us in death.

Crowds hurl insults at Jesus, insults we deserve. The other thief joins in. “Some saviour he is. Can’t even save himself, let alone us.”

“Have some respect.” I struggle for breath. “We had it coming, but not him. He’s not like us.”

“He’s a fake.”

“No. A king.” Lungs burn, limbs scream. Always knew I’d get caught, die alone. But I’m not alone. I’m with the one they call…

“Jesus.” I can barely whisper. “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Jesus turns his head and looks at me. I see his face for the first time. He’s no older than me. Blood trickles down from the crown of thorns on his head. His voice is gentle. “Today,” he says between breaths, “you will be with me, in paradise.”

Euphoria rises from my belly, shoots into every sinew and cell in my body, erupts in laughter. Never before have I felt such love, such joy.

Then suddenly, it’s dark. Mid-afternoon, can’t see a thing. The earth heaves and groans. Nails rip flesh. Cries, curses, prayers. Hold breath. Silence.

Is he gone?

Jesus shouts, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”  One breath and–wait. No more.

I am alone again. But not alone.

Tears on my cheeks. Paradise. Today. I’m coming home to the King.

 

 A prayer for Good Friday:

Jesus-and-the-rich-man by Heirich Hoffmann cropped Jesus, may all that is you flow into me.
May your body and blood
be my food and drink.
May your passion and death
be my strength and life.
Jesus, with you by my side
enough has been given.
May the shelter I seek
be the shadow of your cross.
Let me not run from the love which you offer,
But hold me safe from the forces of evil.
On each of my dyings
shed your light and your love.
Keep calling to me
until that day comes when, with your saints,
I may praise you forever.

– Soul of Christ (Anima Christi),
paraphrased by David L. Fleming, S.J.

Credits:
“Thief,” original source unknown.
“Christ and the Rich Young Ruler” by Heinrich Hoffmann, 1889.
© 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 Easter, Holy Week, Lent, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Stay with Me

Posted on April 16, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

See how tenderly the angels comfort Jesus in his anguish. He longed for such compassion from his friends, but they couldn’t do it. They disappeared into a panacea of sleep. We rely on Jesus to be with us in everything, but will we be with him in all he must endure?

Last year on Maundy Thursday when I was doing the Ignatian Exercises, Jesus turned to me and said, “Esther, stay with me.”

I swallowed hard and asked God for the grace to be able to be with him. Then I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the Garden of Gethsemane.

On that night when Jesus was about to be betrayed, his heart was heavy with sorrow. Peter, James and John were asleep, deaf to his painful pleading. I wanted to put my hands over my ears. It was heart-wrenching to hear Jesus so deeply distressed. He paced and cried out, “Please… Father… take this cup from me.” He fell on his knees, covered his face with his hands, and wailed.

“God, do something!” No sooner had I said the words when angels came and comforted him.

I asked God, “Can I go and comfort him too?”

“Go,” God said.

I ran to Jesus and wrapped my arms around him.  He clutched on to me so tightly I could barely breathe. He was trembling. Tears soaked into my shirt.

After a long time he sat back and looked me in the eyes. “My Father has asked me to go to the cross and die for you,” he says wiping his cheeks. “And I will go.”

“Don’t do it for me,” I said, “Am I really worth it?”

“Are you worth it?” He shakes his head. “How could you be with me all this time and still not know that you are the treasure of great price, the pearl that I have sold everything for? The thought of not being with you forever is what convinced me to say yes. I will do it for you and for them (he looks at the sleeping disciples) and for all.”

I touch his face and kiss his wet cheek. I hold his hands and rub the spot where the nails will enter. “Remember my touch when you are dying,” I say. “May that memory soften the pain.”

“Thank you,” Jesus says and hugs me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”  Matthew 26:38 (NIV)

 

Maundy Thursday reflection:

  • Will you keep Jesus company this week?
  • See what unfolds when you do.
Credits:
Gethsemane (The Hour is Near) by Anthony Falbo, 2006. 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 Holy Week, Ignatian Spirituality, Lent, Praying with the Imagination, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Moving from “Me” to “We”

Posted on April 12, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Palm Sunday 12x9 21 bd 09 SOLD

If I were Jesus riding into Jerusalem, I would have been pretty agitated. Imagine entering the city where you’re about to be betrayed, abandoned, beaten, and killed. How could Jesus remain present to the crowds of joyous people shouting, “Hosanna!”? Before the week is through, another crowd will shout, “Crucify him.” Yet Jesus remains calm as he rides into Jerusalem and is welcomed by hundreds of palm-waving supporters. Yet he seemed to savour the moment.

How does he do that? How does anyone welcome the reality of their life without having the full reality of life rob them of joy? I got an answer to my question at Rob Des Cotes’  Soul Care Retreat.

Rob said, “This is how we tend to go through life.” Then he drew the diagram below (what I call the “me” stance):

diagram 1

“We have a relationship with something–an event, a relationship, a job, a goal, or a problem–and then we ask God to help us or bless what we’re doing. God is somewhere out there a distance from us,” he said.

Then Rob drew a second diagram (the “we” stance):

diagram2“Instead Jesus invites us to re-establish our relationship with God daily then, together with God, relate to everything else in our lives.”

Jesus was able to ride into Jerusalem and lovingly interact with the people around him because his primary relationship was not with his inevitable suffering and death. It was with God. The Lord God was holding Jesus’ right hand and telling him, “Do not fear, I myself am with you. We will face what is ahead together.”

When I think of addressing life this way–from a “we” stance instead of a “me” stance–I feel hopeful and light. I relax. I don’t have to be prepared for every possible outcome when the God of the universe is beside me. I can step back from whatever I’m dealing with and be more present to those around me.

It’s comforting to know I can turn to Jesus at any moment and say, “I’m glad you’re here.”

 “For I am the Lord your God
    who takes hold of your right hand
  and says to you, Do not fear;
    I will help you…
  I myself will help you,” declares the Lord,
    your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.
– Isaiah 41:13,14 (NIV)

Questions for your Lenten pilgrimage:

  • What is on your mind right now?
  • How would it be different to address it with God ?
Credits:
“Palm Sunday” by Brian Whelan. Used with permission.
Rob Des Cotes is the director of Imago Dei Communities in Vancouver.
© 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 Helpful Images, Holy Week, Lent, Rob Des Cotes | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Are You Withering on the Vine?

Posted on April 10, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

tree-of-life-jaison-cianelli large

“Are you suffering from spiritual depletion?” Rob Des Cotes asked participants at the Soul Care retreat we hosted at our church. To help us answer that question, Rob led us though this diagnostic list.

Are you experiencing any of the following?

__ Loss of peace (unable to relax or rest from busy thoughts)

__ Loss of receptiveness (unable to receive/enjoy people, nature, art, etc.)

__ Loss of self-control (no “off” switch, unable to step back and make healthy choices)

__ Less capacity for relating well with others and God (feel like the “tail wags the dog,” no distance between you and your fear)

__ Less capacity for restoration (like rechargeable batteries that have lost their capacity to recharge)

I checked off five out of five. My life was packed to the edges. I rushed through morning quiet times or skipped them. I ate lunch while I worked. In the evening, when I did have time to pray, I was exhausted, and acedia persuaded me to have a snack and watch my favourite TV show instead. I still had moments of connecting with God, but that wasn’t enough to fend off my growing dissipation.

“If you are answering ‘yes’ to most of these statements, you may be withering on the vine,” Rob told us. “Jesus said, ‘I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; but apart from me you can do nothing.'”

When we get too busy to spend time with God, we are like a severed branch. No longer attached to the vine, it cannot obtain the water and nutrients it needs to survive. This old hymn captures the truth,

I need Thee, oh, I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
Oh, bless me now, my Saviour,
I come to Thee.

I am thankful for Lent, this season of repentance and renewal. I am thankful for Rob and the gentle way he calls us back to rest in God. And I am thankful for Jesus who revives me and invites me to abide in him again.

 As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. – John 15:9 (NRSV)

Questions for your Lenten pilgrimage:

  • Are you withering on the vine?
  • Where have you noticed God inviting you to rest in him? 
Credits:
“Tree of Life” by Jaison Cianelli. Used with permission.
Rob Des Cotes is the director of Imago Dei Communities in Vancouver.
“I Need Thee Every Hour'” by Annie S. Hawkes and Robert Lowry, 1872.
Scripture references: John 15:5, 9
© 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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