My church is doing an intimidating series called "Rhythms: Restoring Everyday Spirituality." I can't tell you how much I love being led by these humble, wise, creative, honest elders.
The most convicting sermon... the Sabbath. Wondering, have I ever taken a sabbath?? :deep breath: I think I find a lot of worth in being busy, having things going on... I never want to feel like I am missing anything. But in doing this, I seem to be missing the point.
What quality of life am I living if I don't have time for reflection, worship, beauty, solitude, prayer, lazy laughter? What about a deep, meaningful life in which I suck the marrow out of each moment- instead of the rush, the obligation, the exhaustion. What is life if not obligation?
I'm still trying to figure out the practical HOW of learning to rest and WHAT exactly a life practicing more rest would look like.
First, I am struggling to expel feelings of guilt. From sitting and pondering a good song, reading a book, tilting back my head to feel the snowflakes, sitting and talking with my parents, writing my thoughts/doodling, having a decent phone conversation--without multi-tasking! Oh the struggle to be fully present in our culture! To pitch a tent in the NOW and HERE (which put together = NOWHERE) (from Brennan Manning's masterful book "Ruthless Trust").
The now and here is the only place we can experience God. "We only learn to pray all the time everywhere after we have resolutely set about praying some of the time somewhere" John Dalrymple, in this past week's sermon on prayer.
It must start in the here and now.
Listening: Jon Foreman
Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer EPs = some of the best music to get stuck in my heart in a while.
About Me
- nataliemma
- *follower of Jesus *uncertain young professional *reader, writer, walker, traveler, casi-hablante de espanol *thirsty for knowledge, truth, beauty, purpose, clarity, peace, justice, change
2 comments:
Dear natalie,
A mouse and a frog meet every morning on the riverbank.
They sit in a nook of the ground and talk.
Each morning, the second they see each other,
they open easily, telling stories and dreams and secrets,
empty of any fear or suspicious holding back.
To watch, and listen to those two
is to understand how, as it’s written,
sometimes when two beings come together,
Christ becomes visible.
The mouse starts laughing out a story he hasn’t thought of
in five years, and the telling might take five years!
There’s no blocking the speechflow-river-running-
all-carrying momentum that true intimacy is.
Bitterness doesn’t have a chance
with those two.
The God-messenger, Khidr, touches a roasted fish.
It leaps off the grill back into the water.
Friend sits by Friend, and the tablets appear.
They read the mysteries
off each other's foreheads.
But one day the mouse complains, “There are times
when I want sohbet*, and you’re out in the water,
jumping around where you can’t hear me.
We meet at this appointed time,
but the text says, Lovers pray constantly.
Once a day, once a week, five times an hour,
is not enough. Fish like we are
need the ocean around us!”
Do camel bells say, Let’s meet back here Thursday night?
Ridiculous. They jingle
together continuously,
talking while the camel walks.
Do you pay regular visits to yourself?
Don’t argue or answer rationally.
Let us die,
and dying, reply.
~Jalal ad din Rumi
oh, sabbath.
what a gift to be received.
and not an easy one.
but so good.
i love you & your thoughts.
Post a Comment