I am so grateful for the diverse streams of the Church of Jesus, and the the richness to be experienced in that diversity.

Over recent years I have begun to learn more about contemplative prayer, as well as the beauty and value of simply being in the presence of God with no need for words.

Coming from a very evangelical background, being introduced to contemplative prayer has brought me a new freedom and delight in prayer. And it has also had a profound impact on those times that invariably come where my head, and even my heart and soul, are such a swirling mess that I find it difficult to formulate words. I have now learned/am learning to bring all of that into God’s presence, and since I can’t find the words I don’t even try. I simply sit with it all in His presence, giving it over to Him, maybe with palms open (unless I happen to be walking out in nature) and breathe Him in. Then slowly everything within me begins to settle.

My recent retreat started out like this, my head and heart and soul swirling with tired thoughts, questions, concerns, etc. I had been counting down the days until the retreat and when I was finally there, I went into prayer as quickly as possible, desperate to talk with Him about it all, desperate for Him to speak.

That first evening was difficult. My internal world would not settle and I kept pushing for words – words from me and words from Him.

But only silence.

And then I let go, stopped pushing. Remembered what I have learned about simply being His presence. In my heart I heard, “It will come. I will speak. But for now, draw breath, relax, let go… and linger.”

Linger.

How often do we linger in God’s presence when we aren’t hearing anything, simply content to sit in companionable silence? Yeh, not often.

So I lingered.

The next morning I wrote this:

Last night

the storm was in my heart and mind,

swirling in my soul.

This morning

the storm rages outside.

Wind and rain beat at the windows.

But I am cooried in.

Cooried in next to the fire of Your love.

Cooried in under the blanket of Your peace.

Candle flames flicker and dance,

like the gentle presence of Your Spirit.

The wind howls,

the trees swish and creak,

yet inside,

deep quiet.

A heart content,

content to rest at the hearthside of You love.

“Not in the fire, the tremor or the wind”

But in the deep quiet I listen,

content to wait

for the gentle whisper  

that brings forth life.