Learning to Roll with the Cyclical Nature of the Spiritual Life
A couple of weeks ago I found myself with a little extra time before a meeting and I did my morning devotion at Torrance State Beach (which incidentally is 3 blocks from my first appointment after seminary). I’d just driven through early morning Los Angeles/Orange County traffic to get there. I had to get up early to make sure I made the meeting on time. It was shaping up to be one of those days.
As I began my usual routine I was very much looking forward to my time with the Lord, but I could feel that my heart was heavy and I didn’t feel as though I had much energy. It was a down time. I have these times before. I think everyone has. Our spiritual mothers and fathers have used phrases like “dry”, “wilderness experience” and even the “dark night of the soul” to describe these experiences. There is something that is natural about these downturns in our spiritual life. When I’ve had these periods before, it was natural for me to have one or two days of this down part in the cycle quickly turn into four or five days (or more). Once one of these down slopes started I usually couldn’t stop them until I hit some sort of natural bottom. I’d fight against the feelings of dryness. I’d feel guilty for the feelings of malaise. I would allow these spiritual down times to weigh like an anchor around my soul. I just didn’t know another way.
As I sat at the beach that morning, I could feel that same feeling of malaise and dryness starting to creep into my life. Somewhere though, in the fog of my spirit, I could feel that there was a difference. As I sat watching the waves roll into the sand and then recede I remembered the classic piece of Christian prose we know as “Footprints”. I remembered my very recent experiences of being carried by God. I remembered the feelings of holding the risen Christ by the hand. The feelings of malaise didn’t evaporate…I guess I really didn’t expect them to…but I was no longer freaked out or afraid of them. I wasn’t fearful of any kind of prolonged experience. I knew…I just knew that I wouldn’t walk through this period of dryness alone. I knew that this period was not marked by an absence of God’s presence. On the contrary, I knew that I would have a constant companion through this time. I knew that Jesus would lead me through this time. I was able to engage a deeper level of trust as I moved forward in faith. This continues to be a profound realization for me. It is easy to trust God when things are going well. Trust has a profoundly different quality when it is engaged in the face of adversity or failure. I know that as long as I keep my eyes on Christ He will lead me.
The last ten days have had a wide variety of challenges…some of my own making and others that have been thrust into my life…but through it all, I’m learning to trust in ways I never have before. The foundation of this knew learning has come as I’ve been able to learn how to see, experience and grow in my ability to find God in silence. I’ve always know that God was never far from me. In these last few months I’ve learned to live into that truth.
A couple of weeks ago I found myself with a little extra time before a meeting and I did my morning devotion at Torrance State Beach (which incidentally is 3 blocks from my first appointment after seminary). I’d just driven through early morning Los Angeles/Orange County traffic to get there. I had to get up early to make sure I made the meeting on time. It was shaping up to be one of those days.
As I began my usual routine I was very much looking forward to my time with the Lord, but I could feel that my heart was heavy and I didn’t feel as though I had much energy. It was a down time. I have these times before. I think everyone has. Our spiritual mothers and fathers have used phrases like “dry”, “wilderness experience” and even the “dark night of the soul” to describe these experiences. There is something that is natural about these downturns in our spiritual life. When I’ve had these periods before, it was natural for me to have one or two days of this down part in the cycle quickly turn into four or five days (or more). Once one of these down slopes started I usually couldn’t stop them until I hit some sort of natural bottom. I’d fight against the feelings of dryness. I’d feel guilty for the feelings of malaise. I would allow these spiritual down times to weigh like an anchor around my soul. I just didn’t know another way.
As I sat at the beach that morning, I could feel that same feeling of malaise and dryness starting to creep into my life. Somewhere though, in the fog of my spirit, I could feel that there was a difference. As I sat watching the waves roll into the sand and then recede I remembered the classic piece of Christian prose we know as “Footprints”. I remembered my very recent experiences of being carried by God. I remembered the feelings of holding the risen Christ by the hand. The feelings of malaise didn’t evaporate…I guess I really didn’t expect them to…but I was no longer freaked out or afraid of them. I wasn’t fearful of any kind of prolonged experience. I knew…I just knew that I wouldn’t walk through this period of dryness alone. I knew that this period was not marked by an absence of God’s presence. On the contrary, I knew that I would have a constant companion through this time. I knew that Jesus would lead me through this time. I was able to engage a deeper level of trust as I moved forward in faith. This continues to be a profound realization for me. It is easy to trust God when things are going well. Trust has a profoundly different quality when it is engaged in the face of adversity or failure. I know that as long as I keep my eyes on Christ He will lead me.
The last ten days have had a wide variety of challenges…some of my own making and others that have been thrust into my life…but through it all, I’m learning to trust in ways I never have before. The foundation of this knew learning has come as I’ve been able to learn how to see, experience and grow in my ability to find God in silence. I’ve always know that God was never far from me. In these last few months I’ve learned to live into that truth.
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