travel

Making a Spiritual Retreat at home

Melissa Presser Melissa , , , , , , , , , , ,

20170115_083619

It never occurred to me that I could find Jesus at home. Not the flesh and blood but the spirit. My physical sense of longing has been active for years, searching in churches and temples, sacred spaces, parks, oceans and rivers for the God I loved and the God I let go of. There have been days I have found Him deeper in the waves of the ocean than on my knees in a church. In the rough terrain of spiritual travel, the inner divine sometimes gets caught up with the worldview of spirituality. With so many different ways to celebrate God, I have often become mired in the rules and opinions of others. The beauty of humans is their willingness to go to any length to find comfort in the seat of God’s lap, but the darkness creeps up in the judgment of where that lap is. God will always be God regardless of our thoughts or opinions. But the way we relate to God is similar to the way we relate to the world; a blade of grass that speaks to me may mean nothing to you while the sound of the highway may mean everything.

I have been bed bound for several days now and the kids and husband are away. Though the pain has been great, the clarity has been far-reaching. The depths of my heart have been crying out for a spiritual retreat, a time of silence, a time away. And although I have silently prayed for these things, almost an unconscious prayer if you will, I always thought it a bit selfish to ask God for a spiritual getaway. In any event, it would never happen. I have a job and three children, a husband and a full plate; that is until I was forced into bed by something I could not control. So when the family left for the weekend I was in pain and alone. It’s been ten years or so since the last time I ever remember being alone like this. Smack dab in the middle to end of Lent I found myself here, in a desert I prayed for but never saw coming. My first thought was to reluctantly give my pain up for someone who didn’t deserve it, my least favorite person, someone who had persecuted myself and many around me. I asked God to accept my pain as a sacrifice for this man’s salvation, his reconciliation with God and a second chance at mercy.

Heading into day two, the silence seemed uncomfortable. But I noticed the sunlight coming off the kitchen window, the beautiful color of the dark wood stairs and the sound of the highway that reminded me I was not far from the chaos of the world. I wanted to create a sacred space, get on my knees on a kneeler to Mary, look at an iconic picture and find myself surrounded by darkness and candlelight. But from a bed this was impossible, so I started to research retreats at home and found nothing. So I turned back to Jesus and his methodology and the idea of spiritual retreat.

Withdraw to deserted places to pray

I realized that it didn’t take a special set of prayers, or an icon or candles. I didn’t have to fall to my knees. The ocean didn’t have to be close and I didn’t have to sit amongst flowers in a perfectly manicured garden. The house was deserted, my heart was open and I simply had to be…

Many of us find ourselves in these situations. Hectic schedules, health problems, the inability to travel due to time or money constraints. We want bigger houses, bigger jobs and bigger lives.

But bathed in silence, the places that we are planted come to life. The light shines from the darkness

I am not saying that God may not move you, He may. But chances are the thing that you are searching for is right in front of you. We are missing the wood grain, the ray of sunlight, the sacred shrines in our hearts. What we are missing is silence…

I encourage you today to drop the thoughts in your head at the threshold, invite the Holy Spirit in, sit and do absolutely nothing. Like the magic of Beauty and the Beast, the things around you will suddenly start to come to life…

For the God I love

Melissa Presser Melissa , , , , , , , , , , ,

20170110_092119

My son Collin, a gifted student in the 2nd grade, won the county-wide haiku contest, beating out all students in the county up to 5th grade. Collin has been diagnosed with ADHD, a daily struggle for him. We have overcome, by the blood of the lamb and the word of our testimony.

 

For the life that I was not supposed to live

For the days I spent doubting my existence

For the pain and suffering I could not explain

For the God I loved, and the God I let go of

For the many books I read about why bad things happen to good people

For the day I quit life, and the day I found out it again

For the God who just wouldn’t let me go

For the child he gave me who was never supposed to be

For the child that couldn’t walk, and lagged far behind

For the child that they told me would never be… anything

For the child they told me wouldn’t make it

For the one to which they said, give up… now

For all the days I chose to believe God over them

For the many nights I stayed up crying

For the days where I was slowly dying

For the pain to return in the form of my son

For the struggle I relived as if we were one

For the times God called me to move him

For the times I was afraid

For the face to the floor praying, and nights of waiting

For the child they told me would be, was  … nothing

For the life I believed he would have

For the Christ child to which he was bound

For the savior who he had

For the one that held me up

For the seven years of life

For the moment I’ve only dreamed of

For the disability that has been his greatest ability

For the thorn in his side that has been made strong in his weakness

For the God who loved me

For the God who made Him

For the God that just refuses to let go

For all of these things, He is, I AM

The Grave of the Unknown climber

Melissa Presser Melissa , , , , , , , , , , ,

“Does the master break down doors to enter his own home?” Teilhard de Chardin, Hymn of the Universe

“The Lord remembered her,” (speaking of Hannah, 1 Samuel 1, Old Testament)

The Matterhorn in all of its splendor

Sometimes, all we want to feel is that we matter. Our work goes unnoticed, our family forgets us and our friends sometimes expect more of us than what we are able to give. Next to happiness and satisfaction, what I have found most in my journey is that people are looking to be acknowledged, and loved. That may actually be a part of happiness and/or satisfaction but generally I find it separates itself somewhere between Italy and Switzerland.

Sometimes as Christians, we are guilty of misinterpreting the “I must decrease and he must increase, “it’s all Him and none of me,” or “I must totally empty myself of myself” way of thinking. Yes these things are all true, even for people who are not Christians but subscribe to a servant’s lifestyle of doing things for others, but sometimes we forget about ourselves in the process. There is a fine line between the two, not so much for the desire of accolades but for the desire to be acknowledged and loved for what and who we are.

I pondered this thought as I stared at a picture on the wall of the Matterhorn, a mountain of the Alps bordering Switzerland and Italy. Oftentimes referred to as “The Mountain of Mountains,” many have tried but miserably failed to climb to its summit. There is in fact a cemetery somewhere near the bottom which serves as a constant reminder of those that have tried the climb and lost their lives. The cemetery features memorial plaques and the graves of approximately fifty climbers that have made the attempt. The “Grave of the Unknown Climber” is also located in the Mountaineers’ Cemetery which serves as a memorial  to the more than 500 deaths which have taken place on the Matterhorn since 1865 as well as the missing and dead, who could not be found or completely removed after their fall. 

I don’t know what makes a man feel the need to risk his live to conquer the summit in a physical sense, but I can imagine that many of us understand it in our spiritual beings. We desire the accomplishment, the journey and hope that someone, anyone may be watching.

In our basic humanness is our need to be loved. Without divine love, we search for that in other places. Most of us operate in the temporal, from this to that. But eventually, like most of the climbers of the Matterhorn, we ourselves aren’t able to sustain the journey on our own. 

It’s ok to feel the need to want to be loved and acknowledged. God is present and real in the human beings he created, and He doesn’t make you climb a mountain to find them. For some, yes the mountain is necessary, the ascension is a tool to grab a hold of something bigger.  But as Teilhard de Chardin says in his book Hymn of the Universe,

“I thank you, my God, for having in a thousand different ways led my eyes to discover the immense simplicity of things.”

You may feel like you’re climbing a mountain in order to gain the love that you need. It may not manifest itself in the physical journey, but it certainly does in the emotional one. We are part of the “look at me!” culture and all get swept away by the need for acknowledgment. But when our souls are truly married to the creator of the universe, we are able to find that acknowledgement in Him alone.

If you’re climbing the mountain, it may be time to find a sherpa. 

Click on the Mountaineer’s Cemetery for more information about the Matterhorn

Do you have a passport?

Melissa Presser Melissa , , , , , , , , , , ,

“It is greater…to be a child of God than to be the ruler of a kingdom: this last I shall lose at death, but the other will be my passport to an everlasting destiny.” Saint Louis IX, King of France

“You can have it all, my empire of dirt.” Nine Inch Nails covered by Johnny Cash

Passports. They are an entry to another place. They allow us freedom of passage. They are a privilege, not a right. A picture and the country of origin. You can be transported to another place.

There are many books on how to change your life, thinking positive and living the life you want to lead by simply speaking it into the universe. I have read all of them. You can be rich, and famous and fabulous. You can have anything you want. But what if you garnered all of that only to have found out, it’s not what you really wanted at all? You are not satisfied.

You can travel the world with a passport, but still feel alone. You can dine with kings and with peasants and still not enjoy the freedom of travel. You can have it all, my empire of dirt.

The lyrics of the song “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails and covered by Johnny Cash is a reminder of the passport. The way we use it, where we go. It is a metaphor for the journey of life. It is an allusion to the words of Jesus, as I imagine myself before the crucifix, “He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.”

Yes it is about drug addiction, but it can be manipulated into any type of pain. It is about what means the most in the end. It is about our humanness, and our struggle. It is about that passport. The one we all hold in our hands.

What have I become, my sweetest friend,

everyone I know goes away in the end

And you could have it all, my empire of dirt

I will let you down, I will make you hurt

If I could start again, a million miles away

I would keep myself, I would find a way

Life is a funny thing. If you think about it, we are all connected by the same thing- the need for satisfaction in life, the dire hunt for happiness, and the struggles we go through to get it. We mostly don’t allow ourselves to connect with others in those deep places. There are no more outdoor philosophical discussions about a man’s inner being. But if you really listen, really listen to Johnny Cash’s cover, it provides a simplified glimpse into that notion. It is painfully real and exposing and true. You can have everything, yet nothing, nothing at all.

How are you traveling and where are you going? Is your passport an attempt to chase happiness in order to be free or are you using it for eternal purposes? Are you simply moving from place to place or does your passport allow you to travel to and from the heavenlies?

Enjoy the song

 

Fearing Love

Susan Irene Fox Susan Irene Fox , , , , , , , , , , ,
©Angelo Cavalli
©Angelo Cavalli

Why do we fear God’s love so much?

It’s so easy for us to point out the sins of our brothers and sisters, so effortless to gossip about this one’s failings, that group’s lifestyle, another one’s fall from grace. So uncomplicated to express our self-righteous opinions on a red cup, a God-given right (when it’s my right, not yours), or the plight of refugees.

Why is it so difficult for us to accept God’s unconditional love? To really understand why His grace is called amazing? To accept Jesus invites everyone to the table, even those we’d rather not eat beside?

Because it makes us vulnerable. Because it may bring us to our knees. Because maybe we’ll discover God’s will is not our will. Because it may overflow the empty parts of our hearts with so much love the only choice left to us will be to give it away. Because maybe, just maybe, we’re afraid we’ll become diaphanous, like a dandelion blown away in the wind.

Here’s the thing about dandelions. Because of the way God created them, they’re strong. Useful. Ubiquitous. When they go to seed, they are naturally designed to create other dandelions. The wind takes those seeds and carries them to faraway places – places they wouldn’t otherwise be able to travel on their own.

 

Dandelions.yellow“The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8).