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A Musing Amma

~ Gathering the pieces of our lives together under the eyes of the Holy

A Musing Amma

Category Archives: Spirit

Coming Into A Clearing

21 Thursday Jan 2016

Posted by Elizabeth Nordquist in listening, Mindfulness, Mystery, opening my mind, paying attention, Spirit, wisdom

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listening, Mindfulness, openness, Spirit

HuntingtonDogBeach

The big pressures of the Season are over, and even though there continues to be much to do, I feel as if I can pause to take a breath. I have been doing a great deal of reading about “mindfulness,” and listening to a multitude of voices who speak from their experiences about what this practice does for, in and through them. In attempting to participate in the practices about which I read, however, I find that they are not intuitive to me, or easy to get the hang of.

This break in the liturgical year between Epiphany and Lent does give me space to try to practice some ways of mindfulness. The calendar is not quite so event-filled, the deadlines have been met for the time being, and the sales forces are losing a little of their steam. I can be a little less in a hurry, a little gentler in my intention, and more expansive in my gaze.  Susan Phillips in her book, The Cultivated Life, (IVP,2014), when speaking of mindfulness for someone on a faith quest, says this: The praying person enters the silence, pays attention to what’s on her heart, and then directs attention to God, aided by the text and the community.” (116)

I am attempting to take that pause, to allow this change of pace to be more mindful and attentive. On a trip to the section of beach where dogs can roam free, accompanied by my grandson, husband and wild dog Max, in the crispness and quiet, I sit shivering, but still, captured by the juxtaposition of motion and stasis: rolling waves, calm ocean farther out; dark mass of clouds softening into promising light; intrepid surfers and quiet watchers. How do I attend to Holy Presence in this moment?

I begin with gratefulness–for being here in this moment to behold the beauty of the Creator in wave, sky and sand; to delight in the weaving of grand-boy, grandfather and dog, up and down the strand; for living in proximity to ocean and mountain both; for ample time to take a day to celebrate the birthday of this unique grandchild, with a love for creatures and a longing to wander untethered in as much wilderness as he can inhabit.

Then with the prayer, Loving God, here I am, I turn my heart to questions for clarity: what do you want me to know? where do you want me to be? how shall I do the next right thing? I experience these prayers as seeds being sown in the garden of my heart, to be brought to fruition when the time in right. For the moment I need only to offer them, and sit with the panorama of Light and Dark before me, and wait. Like the roses in my garden behind and as the irises in my garden in front, the flowering of answers will appear in due season.

The next morning I am in a sanctuary preparing for worship. I am sitting with my husband, there is powerful music, stained glass, and a welcoming liturgy. But first to get quiet. I find that  I routinely need to do things: rest in the truth that I am now a “person in the pew” not a worship leader, and that I need to recycle all the Grace that was extended to me by letting go of any bits and bobs of critique I might carry forward from my years of experience as pastor; then, I need to remind myself that I am gathered here with the people of God in worship of the Mystery we call God, even though I don’t have deep friendships or feel connected. I am ready now to pray, Loving God, here I am, and to see what how the Spirit will catch my attention and nourish my thirsty soul. Will it be words of a new hymn? will it be the reading of the Word by a sweet and adept 10 year old? will it be a line from the Word preached, a cadence sung by the alto soloist, an invitation to participate in the healing of the world close by? I tune my hearts to listen.

The next challenge will be to bring my practice of mindfulness to a committee meeting. Will I be able to lay aside my resistances, my anxieties, my critical spirit long enough to be quiet, pray again Loving God, here I am, and then listen for what prompts the Spirit brings to me: is this a time to speak, to refer to my past experience, to jump into the fray or this is a time to call of the Spirit ot “set a seal on my mouth,” to listen to the deliberations with an open heart, while praying for the common good for all of us gathered?

“Thou will keep her in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee…”  Isaiah 26:3

Loving God, here I am, make me mindful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Freed to be Free

04 Tuesday Aug 2015

Posted by Elizabeth Nordquist in Discernment, freedom, Spirit

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discernment, freedom, Holy Spirit

Freedomstatue I recently found the first sermon I ever preached to a congregation, over 30 years ago. It was called “Freed to be Free,” based on Galatians 5, and I preached it on a summer Sunday when all the regular church staff was away. I was in seminary, had had no preaching classes, just trying to imitate what I had always heard from the pulpit. I am not sure why I was preaching on that text, because I didn’t know much about the lectionary at that stage of my learning. But as I re-read it, I could see clearly that the call to freedom in my spiritual journey was compelling and urgent for me. And the call to a journey of freedom in the Spirit still compels and invites me.

I began to wonder how I have lived into the FREEDOM that is called me so deeply when I first preached on it. I see how careful I was, coming from whence I came, being sure not to allow for uncontrolled license, or to confuse FREEDOM with “doing what comes naturally.” I felt is necessary to speak a cautionary word about anger and self-centeredness, but I was not able to anticipate the ways in which I would become free on my journey of Spirit.

This past month, I have found myself unable to write anything. And maybe that was the FREEDOM I needed–no self-imposed deadlines, no internal pressure to find meaning or something meaningful, no meeting my own carefully crafted intentions. Maybe I needed to listen to the Word that came to me when I was on retreat, which was to “Just stop!” I am at a delicious location in life, where in most ways, I can do just that–stop, let it all go for awhile. And so I have. This July I have completed no projects, no ambitions, not even many lists of to-dos.

But I have been and still am  continually musing on how, when and where I am living in the freedom for which Christ made me free:

  • I am free to remember and marinate in, maybe even to trust, that there is nothing that can separate me from the Love of God.
  • I am free to love and appreciate my person that God created–body, mind and spirit.
  • I am free without fear to allow the Spirit to gentle and guide me through whatever means She chooses: sources from my own tradition, those of other traditions, using words or no words.
  • I am free to love those that are brought to me whether or not we seem to have things in common or whether we agree on anything.
  • I am free to let go of judgement of another person’s motives and behaviors, while holding one to my own beliefs and convictions.
  • I am free to speak and act for justice and mercy for those who have no voice or agency or protection.
  • I am free to bring my gifts and talents to the communities in which I dwell, and free to say “no” when the call does not have my name on it.
  • I am free to trust my own discernment about where and when the Spirit is inviting me to show up; to quote a beloved teacher, “The need does not constitute the call.”
  • I am free to enter into the deep waters of forgiveness–offering it, asking for it, receiving it–and then “letting it go.” This is applies even when musing on my own failures and shortcomings.
  • I am free to give thanks for the abundances of my life–people who have loved and are still loving me, places I have dwelt where I experienced Holy Presence, moments of “kairos” time, where I with others recognized that surely God was in that place.
  • I am free to continue to be a growing up, all the days I am given to live, not ever needing to call a halt to the practices of Spirit that deepen my understanding of the Holy and how I am called to live and move in the moment.

My understanding of God’s freedom for and in me keeps growing…I keep being set free; I am banking of the words of Jesus from the book of John: If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed. May it be so!

Becalmed: Longing for Wind

29 Monday Jun 2015

Posted by Elizabeth Nordquist in paying attention, Spirit, waiting

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Breath, Holy Spirit, waitiing

I ventured out to my annual personal retreat last week, hoping to meet Simages-2pirit in all her personae of dove, fire and wind to ignite in me the energy I need both for myself and for those to whom I am called. I arrived at my familiar place (although there were plenty of personnel changes), settled in to a known room (although my favorite was already occupied), entered into well-tried practices to arriving, attending and resting. I walked, I read, I prayed, I listened, and in the first hours I felt the filling begin–no one else to react to, nothing on my to do list, no place to drive, no food to prepare. My brain and heart began to take notes, glad for the spacious interstices between impressions and insights. And then the energy stopped!

I am not sure what had happened. There was evening conversation around the table. There was problematic material in the book I am considering. There was a writing style that unnerved rather than reassured. There was lots of maintenance and construction noise in the surrounding neighborhood. However, as I checked in with my own heart, I noticed that I was becalmed, nothing was flowing and moving ahead. What had begun in energy now lay flat and still. I came to an awareness that even thought I had consciously intended to “come apart and rest for awhile,” another part of me was highly invested in achieving something on this retreat–setting an agenda, working a problem, moving on up a little higher with God.

But I was out of ideas and energy. So I put a stop to my Achiever in order to wait…and I discovered that the Spirit was still moving–in my breath. Breathe on me, Holy Spirit; breathe in me, Breath of God. Evening was falling, light fading, sounds diminishing. And I breathed–breathing out the clutter, breathing in Spirit. Over the next hours I kept reminding my self of the Breath, keeping me alive, even when I was not “accomplishing” anything. Jesus’ words, Come apart and rest awhile, reminded me that one thing was necessary for me, as it was for Mary–to listen to and for the Wind of the Spirit, even when it came in ways that were not Bright Red, or Aero-dynamic or High-Flying. The Sound of Sheer Silence was enough for now.

Over the remaining hours I had set aside, I rested, tuned into the moment in my body and in my mind, trusting that what I needed would be provided when I needed it. Into the rest I continue to take in and expel the Breath of the Spirit, to follow its lead, to let it propel me where it willed. I discovered a forgotten resource for my planning in the trunk of my car. I discarded one vista for another that took me into a peace garden full of Sadako’s cranes surrounding an infinity pool. I prayed for rain in our parched climate where the creek is no longer flowing. I sifted through images that spoke to me of gardens, of grief, of letting go, of loving. I savored poems of beloved poets who continue to feed and nourish my spirit. I drank peppermint iced tea, awaiting me in the pantry. I engaged in appropriate conversation with other retreatants when the time was right. And out of that rest I was led to some sacred texts in books that i had already discarded that had a Word for me in that moment.

When it was time to leave, I was ready. But I had no outline, no calendar, no assignments for people; nor did I have insightful imagining into my own questions and musings. Yet, I had experienced the rest that comes from standing down from even my unconscious lists of “to-dos” and trusting in the freedom that the Breath of the God brings, even, maybe especially when we are out of the energy we generate out of ourselves. I met and was met by the Spirit of Christ, and She set me free.

…where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom!           2 Cor. 3:17

Longing for Water

04 Thursday Jun 2015

Posted by Elizabeth Nordquist in refreshment, renewal, Spirit

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Holy Spirit, living water, refreshment

images-2My senses are alert to water! It is summer, the season where I always imagine that refreshment is coming. Ocean, lakes, rivers beckon me to immersion, nourishment and respite.

Yet, my soul is aware of its own dryness.  Maybe it is mirroring the California environment, drought plagued, with wistful longings for El Nino and desalinization projects. Or it may be reflecting the Church in its seemingly endless fights and posturing for power. And what could be more arid than the hue and cry about the premature race for the presidential election next year, in which we cannot trust a word or a character than comes splashing out of the next news cycle? I long for clear fresh water that cleanses, satisfies, and hydrates my spirit.

I have been calling on spiritual images from sacred text and song to give me hope and to dwell in the part of the Mystery that slakes my thirst. I remember my friend at the well in John 4, whose dessicated habits separated her from neighbor and from herself. Yet she got herself to that watering place that noon, and met One who embedded in her “a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (John 4: 14). In that spring which he gave her, she met the Holy and she met herself.

So I am trying to notice where the Living Water is located for me in this summer season.

I am finding it in a usual watering hole of reading, primarily sacred reading. Right now I am reading slowly in four different strands of faith: a book of theology on perichoresis by long-time friend of my youth, Dr. Charles Twombly–which prods the ancient boulders of my seminary study into letting trickles of awareness through; a book on Church History about the Beguines, a lay movement of women in Europe in the 13th and 14th centuries, whose story enriches the encouragement I see in 21st Century women all around the world; a book on gratitude by a Mennonite woman in the South with six children who is seeking to live more thankfully; and, possibly most close to my own drying up in aging, a book of reflections by Marilyn Chandler McIntyre, written as if she were a person of faith who had been given a brief amount of time to live. Each of these streams bathes my spirit, delights or challenges, and refreshes my fevered brow.

I find living water from writers and speakers who speak good news to the broken places, to the misinformation that teems around the communication channels. Just this morning I read a cleansing word from someone who had been mightily betrayed by his colleagues who spoke with clarity and graciousness and peace, and another who brought a perspective of gospel to a new flash that the clamoring twitters had missed altogether. Healing streams indeed!

I am also allowing non-verbal springs to replenish my dryness. The iris, the butterflies and the humming birds are like little rivulets of God’s grace through my window. The harmonies of contemporary composers like Stephen Paulus, Arvo Part and Eric Whitacre ripple with waves of hope and faith that fill the parched places in my soul. Paintings–old and new–spark both my remembrance of the faithfulness of the Holy One, while at the same time they cast a vision of what could be, of what is promised.

And I am finding that the my own practice of offering Presence in the lives of those who are suffering keeps my own heart juices flowing. E-mails, snail-mail cards, phone calls, monetary contributions which I send, all remind me that there is Living Water to be received and recycled to others, despite my felt creakiness and aridity. Just showing up in those ways sends my roots rain, as T.S. Eliot prayed.

My summer pump can be primed by flowing Grace if it is trusted and used. This morning these words came to me from The Wisdom of Ben Sirach, a non-canonical pre-Christian source of ethical sayings, speaking of the Holy One:

As a mother shall she meet him…/with the Bread of Understanding shall she feed him,/ And give him the Water of Wisdom to drink. (15-2-3)

May I find that water for my soul and for our world!

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