One of the central hallmarks to contemplative ways of living in a frenetic world is that instead of being carried away by the daily demands of modern living, we choose to make space for holy pauses and silence–to purposefully place our thoughts on God–to listen, to commit and surrender, and to give thanks.
Contemplative moments are an act of resistance to a world that judges our value by our productivity and achievements rather than on our relationship with God and His purposes for us.
Here in this section, I would like to introduce you to some of the practices of contemplation.
This section will be growing in leaps and bounds as I venture out more in this direction…
Blooming ties in with the contemplative life in that I believe we can never know God’s purpose for us unless we spend much intimate time with Him–listening, growing, changing…
This necessitates times of solitude.
“It has been said that no great work of literature or science has ever been produced by someone who did not love solitude. It is also a fundamental principle of faith that no tremendous growth in holiness has even been achieved by anyone who has not taken the time frequently, and for long periods, to be alone with God. “The Still Hour” (Streams in the Desert)
journaling… (keepin’ it real)
God, I read these books on creativity, contemplation, and soul-work and they resonate very, very deeply in my heart but I still can’t seem to piece them all together. They haven’t melded and jelled yet. They still seem so random.
I won’t and can’t stop reading and seeking and praying and waiting and following– but I so desperately long for the mountaintop experience in knowing that I have at least arrived on the first peak of my “from glory-to-glory” experience on this earth.
It is a difficult climb–especially, I would assume, for this first solo climb. I usually have a companion–a human one–but You have set me on this path–the one that is straight up–alone. Yet, I know I’m not really alone because You are always with me.
It’s just that You seem (I said seem) to appear and disappear–and sometimes You seem to disappear at the scariest part of the climb(!)–when it gets really narrow and I’m on the edge and there are no safety barriers or nets–though I do feel certain You would catch me if I fell.
But I don’t want to fall!
I want to make it to the top.
And I want to arrive there looking and feeling wild and free–hair tousled and blowing every which way, not a speck of makeup on, familiar blue jeans and simple t-shirt, arms upraised–a very real and very authentic ME–with a soft, open heart that soars with joy and delight and ecstasy at the view–the view!
The view I experience with You, Lord.
And only You will know what it took for me to get there–the stumbles, the falls, the sleepless nights, the tears, the on-my-face prayers, the tiny steps of progress, the agonizing switchbacks when it seemed I was getting nowhere, the loneliness, the sense of accomplishment, the small yet powerful joys–every bit of it was worth it.
I wouldn’t change a thing, because if it had been easy, the peak experience wouldn’t be the same. Not even close.
If someone dropped me on the peak, it wouldn’t feel right.
If I had been carried on someone’s back, the journey would not have been my own well-earned personal accomplishment.
My emotional and spiritual muscles would still be weak.
So, yes. There are some journeys we simply must make alone.
This is an interior journey–a journey in places of the heart and soul.
The reward for taking that journey is great. Not measured in dollars or medals or pats on the back.
The reward is having taken that journey with You, God. And arriving right where You wanted me to arrive and in becoming exactly who You created me to be.
When I arrive at that mountaintop, let’s rest for awhile and then journey on–You and me together forever– going from mountaintop-to-mountaintop. From glory-to-glory.
By the way, God. I think I’m discovering that I learn the most in those valleys on the way to the mountains…that the valleys are a place with fertile soil for lush growth.
So I’ll try not to rush.
I want to enjoy this journey with You…
Lead me on, Shepherd of my soul.
Let’s come away with Him…shall we?