Sometimes, when you look at someone you love, you discover something new. Maybe you’re intrigued by a facial expression you don’t recognize, an unfamiliar movement, or a particular inflection. But, when you think about it some more, you realize that “something new” was there all along. I’ve been getting glimpses of God that way. At first I think: “How exciting, to know God in this new way! But, as if God whispers in my ear, I say, “But It’s not really new, it just feels new.”
Though my journal has been peppered with these realizations for many years, it was only recently that I started to understand them with greater clarity. I’m beginning to know from experience that our relationship with God begins in a depth words can’t describe. It's a common idea that we work all our lives in this world to achieve this depth in the next. But no; we are born into this deep love, and it remains constant for all eternity.
In our humanity, we can lose sight of the deep, abiding love we share with God and settle for a comfortable shallow place that may feel great but isn’t all there is. God calls us to the depths constantly. How do we respond?
Some of us hear the call and follow it with all our might. It never occurs to us to do anything else. Some of us don’t hear the call because we aren’t ready, or because we’ve completely lost sight of, and have no desire for, this depth. And most of us are somewhere in between these extremes.
This autumn, I went on my annual eight day retreat. While attending such a retreat is an important responsibility for a spiritual director, the truth is taking that much time just to ponder my relationship with God is more a luxury than a duty. Each of the eight days are spent in silence. With the exception of meeting with a spiritual director once a day, we speak to no one but our creator for the entire retreat.
One day on retreat, I asked God, “Can you help me to see my spirit?” I had been pondering what she was like. We talk about being present, to our bodies, minds and spirits, but lately, I was feeling that I had no idea what my spirit was. How can I be present to something I can’t even imagine? Putting this in God’s hands, I went for a walk on the beach, trying not to try but to be open to God’s work in me. I decided to sit and pray there.
Absent summer crowds, I was almost completely alone on the beach. I sat comfortably, closed my eyes, and listened to the waves. As I listened, I felt as if the waves were so close to me, they were inside me, rushing from my head to my feet. The word “cleansing” came to my mind. When I caught myself wondering what was being swept away, I reminded myself that this was God’s work–and therefore none of my business.
As I sat there feeling the cleansing ocean inside me, a dog wandered up to me and barked, jolting me out of my reverie. Startled, I looked right into the dog’s eyes, which registered the same alarm I was feeling. Normally, that bark would have shaken me and ended my prayer, with a lesson learned about the environment in which I choose to pray. But instead, I remained calm as I watched the dog go back to its owner and resumed my prayer.
I believe God and I were so close in that moment, that nothing could shake me. God was the waves rushing through me, AND the dog barking at me, AND so much more. My prayer was to see my spirit and I was given a glimpse of its oneness with the dog, its owner, the beach, and the ocean; all because they are one with God and God is one with me.
As I write, I am drawn to ponder that last sentence. We are one with God, who is love, creation, and life itself. We are one with a Being that has no beginning and no end. The vastness of this image brings about a peaceful feeling of power. When we ponder our oneness, it is impossible to be afraid, to hate, or to despair. God’s vastness is greater than any earthly concern, and it sustains all of creation (including us) in this very moment. My idea of a spiritual self has been transformed to a collective beyond imagination.
This vast oneness is perpetually available to us, if we allow ourselves to desire it. I highly recommend plunging into the depths with God. First, allow yourself to be curious about this depth. Then, be brave and take this thought on the long journey from your mind to your heart where it will become desire. Finally, take a leap of faith, and ask God to take it with you.
If this idea gives you pause, remember God patiently awaits your return. You have been there before. You see, it's new, but not really.
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