The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine. Isaiah 9:2
This year, these words from Isaiah seem more resonant than ever. 2020 has been – and continues to be – in some ways darker than imaginable. With the first vaccines being administered, a glimmer of light is beginning to make its way through, but we almost certainly still have long months of fear, loss, and isolation to go.
At Christmas, we celebrate the arrival of Jesus, the Light of the World, the one who brings us hope and salvation, but we also acknowledge the loss and the brokenness he came to redeem. What has your experience of the darkness been this year? Where has God been present to you in suffering and mourning, and who has he been to you?
I invite you to listen to this meditation from the spiritual directors at Soul Space on Isaiah 9:2-7. Let Scripture, music, and the Holy Spirit move you to reflect on the character of God and what it means to hope in God in the midst of a season of darkness and waiting.
May you have a blessed Advent season and may the light of Christ fill your heart and sustain you with life, peace, and love.
Psalm 43 is a cry for God’s refuge in times of sorrow, turmoil, and disappointment. This new guided prayer over at Soul Space is perfect for facing the uncertainty of Election Day and whatever happens in the days ahead. Listen and find solid ground in our only true source of hope, certainty, and joy.
I’m so excited to announce my friends and fellow spiritual directors Janine Rohrer and David Buchs have launched our new website, Soul Space. At Soul Space, we create room for your soul to breathe. Our vision is to make space for busy people to find rest, nourishment, and inspiration for their souls. We offer guided meditations, spiritual direction, and retreats.
To go with the new website, we’ve posted a new guided meditation, set to David’s ambient music. Based on Psalm 25, it leads the listener to prayerfully reflect on trust, hope, and repentance and on God’s guidance, compassion, and love.
Listen to it now and let your soul find rest from a busy day! We’ll be releasing a new recording next week, too!
You can also find archived reflections on our Soul Space page at Soundcloud.
Many of us are in mourning this Easter — for our old way of life or for those who have left it, all swept away in the pandemic. In these troubled times, may you find comfort and purpose in remembering that, in Jesus, the darkness truly does precede the dawn, that dying is a prelude to resurrection. What could seem like a crass and empty cliché becomes exactly the opposite in light Jesus’ defeat on the cross of the power of sin and darkness. As we wait expectantly for the “already but not yet” of the new creation, what new life will emerge from the ashes of the coronavirus?
As you experience this Easter meditation, our prayer is that the story of the risen Christ will bring you peace and hope during a time of stress and anxiety. Don’t fear, there is Good News ahead of us!
– Written by Janine Rohrer and Carrie Myers. Voiceover and music by David Buchs.
This post is part of my ongoing series on monthly spiritual practices. I’ve adapted this practice from friend, fellow spiritual director, and glowing newlywed Kimberly Malone. Her original suggestion was to turn taking your daily medication into an opportunity to relinquish control to God.
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I’ve always aspired to be a shower and go kind of gal: Throw on some leggings and a comfy shirt, run a comb through my hair, slap on some sunscreen, and run out the door looking as glowy and pure as a Dove commercial. (Except clothed. Clothing is good.)
The ideal. (*Not what I look like in the a.m. Or really ever.)
Unfortunately, God had other plans for me: a DEFCON-threat level assortment of allergies and skin issues including year-round eczema that ranges from mildly irritating to infuriatingly itchy. As a result, I have a twice-daily routine that includes oral medications, nasal spray, and smearing various over-the-counter and prescription creams on myself. By the end of all this, I’m about as greasy as an arctic seal dipped in Crisco, but my skin will still be dried out within a few hours.
Then, I have to add in the time it takes me to deal with contact lenses, the allergy eye drops, and the retainers I’ve worn since high school. At bedtime, I kick my routine up a notch by adding in the nightly warm compress that keeps my tear ducts from backing up and swelling my left eyelid up to the size of Jupiter. I didn’t know you could have both oily tears and dry eyes, but, hey, I’m a complicated woman.
The Reality: Hot Mess Barbie (Except Asian. And itchy. And not a 5’11” Double D.)
Basically, by the time I get myself to bed in the evening, my husband is already having a cigar with his BFF the Sandman over scotch, a cheese platter, and a roaring fire.
(Does scotch go with cheese? I actually have no idea, since I think scotch is a gustatory experience somewhere between cough syrup and drinking gasoline.)
But back to the spiritual part of this whole mess. Although that’s a misleading statement, because the truth is there is no division between the spiritual part of our lives and all the rest of it. God is in all of it, from the mundane to the awe-inspiring.
That’s why I love my friend Kimberly’s suggestion to turn your medication routine into a time of giving up control to God. And it’s why I am adapting it into this month’s spiritual practice. Medication is not usually something I approach with surrender. It’s something I do grudgingly – because I have to. I dislike the time, the expense, and most of all, the daily reminder that my body is flawed and that I am literally physically uncomfortable in my own skin.
But what if I approached taking and applying my meds not with tolerance at best, resentment at worst? What if I spent that time giving thanks for the ways that God is present to me each and every day, and especially in my body? What if as I took a pill or slathered on a cream, I offered up control of my body and my life to the Holy Spirit? If I was less focused on the way my body falls short and instead marveled at how I am fearfully and wonderfully made? How God used my hands and my feet over the course of the day? How he might choose to use them tomorrow? What if I used this Thanksgiving season to be thankful for all the ways God is present in my life, even those things I’d rather avoid? How might God turn my grumbling into gratitude? My discontent into contentment?
While I’m going to apply this practice of surrender and gratitude to taking my meds, it can work in any daily routine you have, anything you might normally do by rote: Drinking your morning coffee, getting dressed, brushing teeth, tying shoes, folding laundry. Once you’ve identified the routine you want to invite God into, here is a simple, basic three-step prayer to follow on a daily basis.
As you practice this discipline of relinquishing control and giving thanks, may God bring you new awareness of his gifts and grace in your life. And may your Thanksgiving season be blessed!
