For a string of early mornings in late fall of last year, I witnessed out the window a full-bodied mist rising over the pond, slowly enveloping the meadow, and moving in my direction. Marveling and curious I decided to venture into that mist and see what I could see.
This was not without a bit of trepidation, but it helped that my imagination had begun to engage with the mist as a spiritual cloud of unknowing. This was God’s invitation to a new awakening, for which I longed in a world that seemed to be imploding from virus and vitriol. With holy yearning and open-heartedness, I put down my cup of coffee, pulled on my boots, and braved the cold.
Not two steps into the fog I heard the swoop and then glimpsed with wide-eyed wonder a great blue heron taking flight so close I felt I’d be taken up with it. Slowly taking a few more steps I was stunned by the most beautiful intricacy of a spider’s web spun from threads of light. I turned my attention to the other side of the path and sitting starkly ablaze on a high tree branch was a red-shouldered hawk. When I turned further around I could see my house which at that moment was spotlighted with the arc of a rainbow.
I laughed. Ok, Lord, I see. You are here, everywhere, inviting me to embrace a divinely illuminated life.
This week we move further along our Lenten journey with Jesus. In this Sunday’s gospel* we enter into a conversation going on between Jesus and the religious leader, Nicodemus, who is wondering about this man Jesus doing deeds that appear to signify God’s presence. The talk of salvation and eternal life is mystifying, but what is clear to me is Jesus’ invitation to look inward and outward with God’s loving and liberating gaze. Imagine the new life that is birthed from that way of seeing.
For reflection:
- To what do you give your attention and with what intention?
- Who would you be if you really saw yourself as God’s Beloved?
- What happens when you see a person or situation through the eyes of Christ?
-Trish Stefanik, Overlook Retreat House at Dayspring