Where This Meets That
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
I don’t remember the last time I went this long between posts, but between prepping two major presentations and a business trip at work, battling kidney stones, filing taxes, helping to plan my dad’s 80th birthday celebration, and traveling to the Georgia coast last week for our first family camping trip, I’ve had to relegate my blog to the back burner out of sheer exhaustion.
Which brings me to this week’s wordplay. What I desperately long for on this Holy Wednesday before Easter is a little time for “idle worshiping”: time devoted to being still (or, “idle”) and reflecting on the blessing of said stillness.
A friend once gave my family a sealed jar that contained a half-inch or so of small gravel and sand and was filled the rest of the way with water. The collective jar was a neat symbol of daily life, the water symbolizing “self” and the sand and gravel symbolizing all else that comes with living our daily lives. When you would shake or swirl the jar, the gravel and sand would kick up and cloud the water so you could no longer see through it, thus symbolizing the impact all our activities, worries, and burdens tend to have on ourselves. These are necessary parts of life, but without proper measure, they can cause us to lose sight of who we really are as individuals and allow ourselves to get all bent out of shape. To clear the water, of course, all that was required was to retire the jar back to stillness for a time.
This week, as Lent concludes with the high of the Easter Triduum (Good Friday, Holy Saturday, & Easter Sunday), I pray that my family and I can take a little time out to “retire our jars” to stillness and enjoy a little respite, a little time for “idle worshiping.”
* This is a centering prayer promoted by Fr. Richard Rohr, based on Psalm 46:10.