Walking with Fish, Talking with God

My journal is an interesting place. I have kept a journal since an english teacher first had us journal in Junior High School, probably eighth grade when I was thirteen or fourteen. For many years my writing was to some "third party" that might be looking over my shoulder or reading the page many years later when my grandchildren found my journals on some bookshelf... Other times I knew I wrote to myself. Asking about the world, wondering why I am not as good as others, questioning if I am really am doing "God" right, or reminding myself that I am just as important as others... A year or so ago I realized I am talking with God. Actually, in my journal it was more like "Oh, it is You that are with me, looking over my shoulder as I write!"

This made sense as I realized that my childhood friend "Fish" was not imaginary afterall. You see Fish is a Lake sturgeon that stayed with me through thick and thin from some of my first memories of playing outside at three or four until sometime in elementary school. Fish may have walked with me until I realized that I could pray directly to God, perhaps when I realized that Jesus and I share sequential birthdays (mine is Christmas Eve, Jesus' birthday is Christmas day, of course). Sharing sequential birthdays is very precious to me, my Christmas Eve birthday ends when I am at the Christmas service, when Jesus Birthday starts. Just one wonderful two-day holiday! It must be even more precious for those of you that actually share the same birthday! A while ago (maybe when I realized it was God looking over my shoulder) I came to the sure knowledge that Fish was God walking, and talking, with me. Now I realize that talking with God is not something relegated to Prayer time, Church services, or the occasional retreat enlightenment, as wonderful as those all are -- it is something normal, ongoing, daily, "just" a regular occurance between God and me...

I share this for a couple of reasons. First, simply to share a bit more of my spiritual path. This blog is about "Thoughts That Simmered On My Journey" and this is certainly a thought that has been simmering for a bit! But second, to let you know that you, dear reader, are going see posts that are just that, bits of my conversation with God.

A Prayer:

Lord, Thank you for being with me now just as you were when I was young and Fish was my constant companion. Give me the quiet confidence to share all with you and know that you are not only with me, but ready to hold me in your arms, all I need to do is call to you.

Amen.  

The Joy of Where I Am

Potomac River from the River Trail

Today I returned to Great Falls Park on the Potomac River. With the Covid-19 restrictions and staying inside it has been several months since I visited the park and tramped along the river. This morning I experienced a moment of quiet realization that this place is one of the joys of where I am. I expect that I am like many others thinking I spend a great deal of time "taking care of what needs to be taken care of." You know, work and commuting, groceries and meals, washing the clothes, national and local politics, family and friends... But this is not that. This is one of those stable places where I am called to let all that go and just spend time with God.

As Benedictines we are called to stability. Those that join monasteries and take vows have the stability of place in their monastery home, their cloister, and their garden. As an Oblate I don't live within the monastery, but I do have the stability of place and home. The trails and parks along the Potomac and the streams and canals that join the Potomac have become the garden within my extended monastery. Great Falls itself is a one of the centers in this monastery garden. Here I have taken  first hikes with my grandchildren, even before they could walk. Here I took my last hike with my beloved Uncle Father Tom. I ponder the fact I never had the chance to hike with my Dad here. Nearly thirty-five years after I arrived and thirty-four years after Dad died it is a place where I still come to terms with his death, and Death.

Here I have a stable place where God pushes forward just enough so that I stop and listen, where I can let go for a just a bit and where God is "taking care of what needs to be taken care of."

A Prayer: 

God, you are with me. Your name endures forever, Your name continues like the sun. You remain with me as the clouds and rivers come and go. May I remember I am blessed by You, as all are blessed. May I always call You blessed. 

Amen.

Great Falls with Morning Clouds

Flowing Potomac

Mather Gorge

Fountains, Light, and Life

For with you is the fountain of life,

and in your light we see light

Psalm 36:10 (RGP)

Sometimes the fountain is like a smooth stream gently cascading into a quiet pool. Other times the fountain is more like the wild roaring falls after violent storms or the melt-water of a hot sunny spring day. This past week while I have been searching for the smooth streams and quiet pools, life around me is a wild, roaring, stormy torrent. I am whipped by the Black Lives Matter events after yet another black death at the hands of the police, the arguments about wearing masks and opening businesses in the Covid-19 days, the differences in political points of view between our leaders and in our nation.

Yesterday our Church Men's group met via web conference. We spent over an hour checking in and being socially close in the physical distance that is called for at this time. After hearing from all we briefly focused on race in our nation. As twelve men from a reasonably liberal main-line (mostly white) church we had much similarity in our thoughts and opinions, but only when mostly out of time did we realize we had so many thoughts and ideas for next steps, ultimate solutions, and how we think. God's light came as we focused our last few minutes remembering that our Church, Faith, and Lord are here, like the fountain and pool, providing water and light as we move forward.

Pondering the fountain of life, and this week the raging waters of action, despair, and ultimately hope became linked in my mind to the story of Peter walking on the water, becoming frightened, and our Lord's reaching out to Peter and guiding him to the calm of the boat (Matthew 14:28-32, NRSV.) It leaves me asking how often do I start with innocent trust that fails me in the turbulence of life.

A Prayer:

God, thank you for being with me when I don't see the fountain, the light, or the path forward. Help me to trust and remember I can call out, as Peter did as he was sinking in the sea, "Lord, save me!" Amen.