Isn't it a wonderful thing that there are mornings? That every dark night ends with a dawn? Much like storms, too. The clear blue of this August sky and the still, crisp morning air make it difficult to remember that a hurricane just blew up the East Coast yesterday. And yet, this is how life goes.I bear witness to the dark nights and storms of those around me... a friend's painful divorce, the loss of another baby in utero, the crippling brought on by addiction, an unwanted diagnosis. Some nights are so dark, not even the moon or the stars can be seen; there is no light to brighten the way. And yet... there comes the morning.
About a year ago, a friend gave me a little book called Seven Sacred Pauses. It is written by Benedictine nun, author, and retreat guide, Macrina Wiederkehr, and with the risk of sounding cliche', it has changed my life. Not in a huge, "a-ha!" sort of way. But in an altering of routine sort of way.
The seven sacred hours that Macrina practices and invites me to do as well, are adopted from St. Benedict, the founder of western Monasticism, who established a patterned life of prayer and scripture-reading throughout certain hours of the day. Many monastic communities still follow the Liturgy of the Hours, in one form or another. But the roots of this practice go back even further in history, to the early Christian Church, and back to the Israelite Nation in the Old Testament, who prayed three times a day.Macrina's little book is filled with poetry, prayers, Psalms, and quotes, and I have begun to adopt them into my daily routine as well. I find when I take a few minutes, a "sacred pause," in the middle of my hurried days to mediate, I become re-centered. I am reminded of my purpose or of the fact that I am loved or of the suffering of those walking through a dark night.
As much as I have witnessed dark nights of the soul in my life or in another's, I have also witnessed the rising of light, of joy, of renewed energy and vision, purpose and healing. I have laughed many times with my friend who was left by her husband with a broken heart. I have noticed the resilience in another dear friend who is planning meals for a new mother, only days after a second miscarriage. I have seen hope and strength resurface in a loved one fighting addiction. And I have seen contentment engulf the one living with disease.
Ah, yes. In the words of Anne of Green Gables, "Isn't it a splendid thing that there are mornings?"
Beautiful, Annette. (Amazon.com, here I come! Thank you for the recommendation!).
ReplyDeleteJeane',I hope your life is as enriched as much as mine has been. And don't be too hard on yourself. I certainly don't pause at all "seven hours" of the day, but when I am able and remember to do so. Blessings, friend.
ReplyDeleteBeing still--- not always the easy thing to do, but so worth it. Stopping to even take a breath can be healing. You are a blessing, dear friend!!!
ReplyDeleteRebecca, you're right. Even stopping for a deep breath can be healing! In fact, Macrina shares a quote by Etty Hillesum that says much the same thing:
ReplyDelete"Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths, or the turning inwards in prayer for five short minutes."
I enjoyed reading your blog once again, Nettie, as I always do when I take the time to read them. Very rich insights. I hope you will like the book I am going to give you tomorrow called Jesus Calling. It is along these same lines - being aware of His presence and taking time to be still and know that He is - it's kind of like practising his presence while we are quiet - and I for one am not often quiet.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mom. I will try to incorporate it into my book life, as I am balancing many books at the moment. ;-)
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