Apply Yourself

I have just received confirmation, through a very sweet telephone call, that I have been accepted for a spiritual direction/pastoral ministry intensive that is scheduled for a week June. I am grateful to be accepted, and I am grateful that I actually sat down and completed the application. As we age, the number of applications we fill out start to decrease. Most of our formal schooling is behind us. It is likely that we have settled into a ministry or work that can carry us into retirement. We even have the credit cards we need. I think being settled is a good thing.  It reminds me of the Benedictine vow of stability.  Without stability, growth can be stunted. I am reminded that without stability, there would be no such thing as a tree, and there certainly would not be such a thing as ministry.   

  

Yet, even in times of stability subtle changes continue.  This is a very tender time of my ministry, partly because I am slowing down.  I have come to treasure this slowing as a time to let my experiences deepen. One of the things I am noticing is how often some of the young assistants confide in me. I come around enough that they trust me.  When I ask one of them if they want communion, it is not uncommon to hear the response, especially when there are many distractions going on, "No, not now. But may I have a hug?". This is as close as I will come to being a grandmother. Yet, I know that even these hugs benefit the elders. We are all in this together, and love is weaving us together in systems that are often broken. Yes, people want to know about God. They want to know about Jesus.  But mostly, they want to know, without a doubt, that they are loved, and as the person standing before them, that is my call. To manifest that love through who I am today. Love is attention, even when words are not being said.  This is the sacred realm where God, and love, and yes, even you and I reside.  I have never thought of myself as a spiritual director, and I still do not.  It is enough for me to be an attendant at the door.     

    

  

For Joy 

Jan Richardson 

   

You can prepare, 

but still 

it will come to you 

by surprise,

 

crossing through your doorway, 

calling your name in greeting, 

turning like a child 

who quickens suddenly 

within you. 

 

It will astonish you 

how wide your heart 

will open 

in welcome 

 

for the joy 

that finds you 

so ready 

and still so 

unprepared.