As I’ve mentioned a number of times, I subscribe to — and highly recommend — Dr. Jim Denison’s daily email column entitled “God Issues Today.” [Update: This is now the Denison Forum] Denison has a gift for putting everyday news items into relevant spiritual contexts, with gentle grace and humor.
Today’s column will have special meaning for anyone who wonders if they’re the only ones in the world whose “quiet time” with God lacks a certain pious spirituality. I set aside the first half hour of each new day for Bible reading and prayer, and more often than not find my mind racing ahead to the day’s tasks, or back to yesterday’s failures, or just in circles to chase petty distractions. My Bible is well-read, but generally because my mind wanders and I have to re-read what I just read. My prayers seem to be the same-old same-old, if you know what I mean. I often imagine God glancing impatiently at his watch, waiting for our time to be up so he can move on to more focused or interesting worshipers.
Anyway, in today’s God Issues column, Denison quotes theologian Henri Nouwen, who offers some very comforting insights about the significance of my — and, perhaps, your — “useless time with God.”
Every morning at 6:45 I go to the small convent of the Carmelite Sisters for an hour of prayer and meditation. I say ‘every morning,’ but there are exceptions. Fatigue, busyness, and preoccupations often serve as arguments for not going. Yet without this one-hour-a-day for God, my life loses its coherency and I start experiencing my days as a series of random incidents and accidents.
My hour in the Carmelite chapel is more important than I can fully know myself. It is not an hour of deep prayer, nor a time in which I experience a special closeness to God; it is not a period of serious attentiveness to the divine mysteries. I wish it were! On the contrary, it is full of distractions, inner restlessness, sleepiness, confusion, and boredom. It seldom, if ever, pleases my senses. But the simple fact of being one hour in the presence of the Lord and of showing him all that I feel, think, sense, and experience, without trying to hide anything, must please him. Somehow, somewhere, I know that he loves me, even though I do not feel that love as I can feel a human embrace, even though I do not hear a voice as I hear human words of consolation, even though I do not see a smile as I can see a human face.
Still the Lord speaks to me, looks at me, and embraces me there, where I am still unable to notice it. The only way I become aware of his presence is in that remarkable desire to return to that quiet chapel and be there without any real satisfaction. Yes, I notice, maybe only retrospectively, that my days and weeks are different days and weeks when they are held together by these regular ‘useless’ times. God is greater than my senses, greater than my thoughts, greater than my heart. I do believe that he touches me in places that are unknown even to myself. I seldom can point directly to those places; but when I feel this inner pull to return again to that hidden hour of prayer, I realize that something is happening that is so deep that it becomes like the riverbed through which the waters can safely flow and find their way to the open sea.
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“On the contrary, it is full of distractions, inner restlessness, sleepiness, confusion, and boredom. It seldom, if ever, pleases my senses.”
I often wonder about this when I find myself mid-daydream sometime after “hallowed be thy name…”
But I notice, too, when I take time for God my daily focus is clearer. When I get out of the habit the days run together, and I lose the clarity between days. Those are the weeks when Friday rolls around, and I feel like I muddled along. His never ending grace again makes something good out of something imperfect and “useless.”
Nice post, Eric. Thanks 🙂
I’m all signed up!
Jennifer, I think you’ve just provided the working definition of “grace.” 😉
Rachel, you’re going to enjoy Jim’s columns, although he makes a lot of references to American culture that may or may not resonate with you. Nevertheless, his spiritual insights will strike a chord, I can practically guarantee it.
By the way, he was our pastor in Midland prior to the arrival of the fellow you met back in September.
What a great post. I’ve signed up for the email also. I can relate to this as well.
And this is a little off point, but I’ve always thought the Carmelite Sisters (and Monestary) originated in Carmel, California (there is such a place near Carmel and it’s a most peaceful and beautiful place, but I now know, thanks to Wikipedia, that the Sisters are more far reaching than that). Learning something new every day at the Fire Ant Gazette. 😉
I guess I need to contact Denison about getting a cut of his subscription fees! 😉
I don’t know anything about the Carmelites, but having never been to that part of California, I would have guessed (correctly, as it turns out) that the name refers to the mountain in Israel.
I doubt that the Gazette provides any practical education in and of itself, but its commenters certainly do!