December 13, 2019

Imagine a picture in which you are invited to place yourself in the scene. There’s an ocean scape; a lighthouse and a keeper’s house next to it. The light house sits on a headland overlooking the sea. A road leads up to the light house. Below the lighthouse, on a narrow stretch of beach there’s a rowboat seemingly abandoned. The sea is relatively calm, and a few small breakers wash onto the shore. The sky is filled with high, wispy clouds riding on a gentle breeze. Where are you in this picture?

I was around the headland, on the beach and out of sight. I couldn’t see where I was. I felt uncertain, in a transition that had yet to unfold for me.

Then I was invited to imagine where I’d like to be. I wanted to be able to explore. I wanted to climb the lighthouse to see as far as I could. I wanted to explore the keeper’s house to learn something of his/her life; what it might be like to watch the changes in the weather day in and day out, week to week, month to month, year to year. Was there a rhythm to that life? I wanted to get in the boat and explore the coastline from the vantage point of the sea. I wanted to experience a life I didn’t have up to that point in time. All in relative safety and under my control.

Then I was invited to imagine where I felt God wanted me to be. I had not really thought of this exercise with that question in mind. Where did God want me? As I began to engage with God in this Visio Divina exercise, I sensed God not wanting me to worry about the picture; about letting go of having to have things all figured out. With all the transitions and changes going on in my life, I wanted to feel content. I wanted to feel like I’ve finally arrived or landed. I wanted the security of exploring my new life on my terms. MY TERMS. God was and is inviting me to learn to be content amid transitions and changes, and leaving the picture behind and trusting God, I believe, is where that contentment is truly found.

God was and is calling me to trust him on my life’s journey. God is calling me to a place of freedom in surrendering my desire to control and demand a sense of stability and security before I can feel content: like I’ve arrived safely.

Today I went on a walk through some unknown to me woods. There were trails that were marked well, but unfamiliar to me. My senses were heightened. I was alert to the sound of the rain falling on the dried, dead leaves. I was aware of the growing slipperiness of the stones on the trail I was walking. All of this and more I took as another invitation to trust God for what I could not know; what I could not anticipate. It is another lived metaphor for where I’m at in my life. Transitions happen all the time. It is well said that the only constant in life is change. As this is true then it stands to reason that inner contentment can’t be dependent on current circumstances but must transcend circumstances. For me that can only happen in the eternal, unchanging one: God in Jesus Christ. May my faith and trust deepen as I follow along the unknown trail.

D~