Lectio Divina #5

Every Monday late afternoon I participate in Lectio Divina, a contemplative prayer practice. The group of ladies I sit with (2 others with the name Helen) bring a lot of grace and insight into my life. I’m slowly getting to know them, and am grateful.

It was a rough election week, and I’ve done my best to guard myself from getting too involved in the chaos. I feel I’ve succeeded, as I haven’t had the anxiety and stress I’ve witnessed in others.

Our reading this past week was from a YouTube conversation between Adam Bucko and Mark Longhurst, the title “Letting Heartbreak Be Your Guide.” The segment we looked at was about being receptive to deep listening and wrestling with tough questions. It was definitely a very timely choice.

There was one sentence that really stood out to me: 

The contemplation part is the receptivity and consent, and the action part is simply letting God live through us as much as possible, letting Christ live and love and protest through us.

Protest? How often do we hear that word when discovering the role of God in our lives? I am still contemplating this, especially as there are many planning their resistance to things that could happen in our country that are hateful and wrong. 

It’s another reminder that we are all the voice of God in this world, and the intentions we have and the actions we take are important. Definitely something to contemplate on a daily basis.

On the way home, which is about a 3 minute drive, I heard this song by Maren Morris. It seemed to fit with my experience with the prayer group, and is a great message overall.

Intention

 

Journal Entry 8.2.24

Today I was to be starting year 21 of my teaching life -- my planned final year.

Life has had other plans for me, and as the summer ends for all my teacher friends, today I feel it's beginning for me.

My accident, injuries, and Jim's health have been all-consuming. I've watched as friends took magnificent trips to the top of the Andes in Peru to zip-lining in Puerto Rico. The idea of any of these things seems far away and unrelatable to me right now.

As does teaching. Simply no way my brain can go there.

Today, however, still promotes an inner shift. I looked back at a quote I had saved in my photos for inspiration, and came upon this:

 

It's rare to hear the name Wayne Dyer these days, but there was a time he was everywhere. His popular psychology was easy to understand and he was personable and approachable. He produced books and appeared on Oprah and had his own shows on PBS stations. He was a friend of my minister when I was attending Unity of Greater Cleveland, and he spoke to our congregation more than once. I have two books autographed by him: Real Magic and Your Sacred Self. These books were guides for me in my late thirties.

Today I got curious about something I remembered I found highly inspiring and life-altering in one of his books. Back in the day, I had returned to it over and over again. I couldn't recall exactly what it was, but it was easy to find because I had kept a bookmark on the page, the number being circled and the quote highlighted:

The secret to changing your life is in your intention. (Real Magic p. 76)

When I read this over thirty years ago, I remember how it transformed my view of what was possible -- and how it is always up to me to make the most of any situation.

For weeks now -- probably months -- I have not thought much about my intentions for myself -- at least not in those terms. I've let Jim's health and other circumstances run the engine. If I had any intentions, it was related to teaching and how I was going to address the course I've responsible for teaching in a new way. As of now, that's not happening.

But I have not replaced with any other intentions. When teaching was ripped away, I had no replacement.

Today I realize it's time to think beyond the immediate. I'm in a place in my healing that I feel it's possible.

I've said over and over these past few weeks that everything feels like a big question mark. Now I think that perhaps with considering what my real intention might be, I can move away from question marks a to periods, or maybe even exclamation points. Wouldn't that be something!!!

I know I cannot rush my healing. I know I cannot predict what will happen with Jim. But I feel there is some kind of intention I can put into place that will empower me a bit.

It has to be just right, because times are tender. I don't know what it is yet.

My intention is to find out. And as the quote above says, I need to do it in the context of what life currently is. That is the only way I can do this in a way that will bring peace.