Good morning…
I didn’t expect to cry when it was my turn to share. The four of us have connected over the phone for two hours every month since finishing our spiritual direction training program in August of 2017. We live in different towns, in different states, but at 9:00 am on the third Monday of each month, we take turns listening and sharing from the deep, sacred reservoir carved out between us.
In God’s perfect timing, last Monday I was scheduled to share. Just a few minutes before our call, I had finished writing with God the last five segments of our ten-week study of Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea. This has been a huge, hard undertaking for me, trying to be attentive enough daily to discern what God is teaching us this sequestering fall semester. For me, this grueling “marathon of stillness” has been so so so much more difficult than teaching a book by a gifted author, like Henri Nouwen or Parker Palmer, Sue Monk Kidd or Jan Johnson, Richard Rohr or Brene Brown. It been much more difficult to learn by listening directly to God rather than learning collaboratively with a living room full of wonderful women.
Still. Silent. Solitary. Writing this study with God for ten straight weeks has taken all of me.
I crossed the finish line of this creative commitment and, over the phone, I surprised myself by collapsing into tears. I reminded me of my husband crossing the finish line on his five sub-three-hour marathons, spent, completely spent. Having left everything on the course, I remember our tearful celebrations after he completed his painful accomplishments.
I heard myself say to my special friends, “I felt called to write this study for the Audience of One, but around Week Nine I hit a wall, and something important shifted. I went from writing for the Audience of One to recognizing myself as the audience of the One. Wow, I felt. The God of the universe is writing this through me.”
My friends cheered me on.
One said, “What an honor it is to be at the finish line celebrating with you. I am in awe of God’s timing, that we are together right now. The picture that comes to mind for me is an actual picture I took a couple nights ago (see photo above). The setting sun was illuminating the clouds and revealing a picture of complete stillness. No wind. No boats. No movement. The intense stillness created in the water a perfect reflection of the sky. This perfect mirroring required silent solitude, no ducks, no geese, no people. How rare that is. What was in the water was completely dependent on the sky, and it was really, really beautiful. How difficult to sustain and what beauty comes from your willingness to be completely still, dependent, reflecting God for ten full weeks.”
Another said, “What a privilege it is to be here this morning at the end of your race, God’s timing is so significant. ‘I finished the race!’ brings so many mixed emotions. Your tears right now remind me of the rich tears you shed when we finally finished our grueling, two year spiritual direction training together. I like knowing of your shift at Week Nine – before you seemed reliant on your own hard work ethic – after you seemed effortlessly carried by the God who speaks through people who invest quality time listening.”
Our other friend said, “You did it! You laced up your shoes, day after day, and, against your natural way of teaching and loving on people face to face, you put on your shoes and you ran this exhausting marathon of stillness with God alone.” Then she read aloud this amazing excerpt from a book she did not know I love.
“What has happened to our ability to dwell in unknowing, to live inside a question and coexist with the tensions of uncertainty? Where is our willingness to incubate pain and let it birth something new? What has happened to patient unfolding, to endurance? These things are what form the grounds of waiting. And if you look carefully, you’ll see that they’re also the seedbed of creativity and growth – what allows us to break through to newness. Creativity flourishes not in certainty but in questions. Growth germinates not in tent dwelling but in upheaval. Yet the seduction is always security rather than venturing, instant knowing rather than deliberate waiting.” – When the Heart Waits, Sue Monk Kidd, (25)
I am so grateful God had my soul friends on the phone waiting for me, cheering me on, as I crossed the finish line of our ten week writing marathon. The master answered, “You did well. You are a good and loyal servant. Because you were loyal with small things, I will let you care for much greater things. Come and share my joy with me” (Matthew 25:23, NCV).
…Sue…
P.S. Here are the links to our ten-week study. Way beyond what I would have planned myself, you are invited to set aside fifteen to thirty minutes of solitude with God for each segment. Every segment ends with an inspiring music video, and through many of these songs God has brought me to tears. If you feel the Spirit nudge, lace up your shoes and invest time in training your ear to the heart of God. Enjoy one or two segments piquing your interest or commit to your own journey through the whole “marathon of stillness” with God. Please feel free to share this study material in whatever way you feel led.
All segments: https://www.northsideumc.org/gift-from-the-sea-study/
