backstripe

This evening, the teacher asked us what we were doing for our spirtual renewal.

“What are you doing about your spiritual growth?”

“What do you do, each day, each week, each hour, whatever, to achieve spiritual renewal?”

“Specifically, what do you do?”

This question battery was a lead in to a talk on Lectio Devina, but I don’t want to talk about that (uh oh…)

I did not participate, other than to listen to the other attendees.   My lovely wife elbowed me and urged me to talk about my growth activities, but I decided (as is usually my case) not to volunteer any information.

She didn’t like that, and let me know about it on the ride home.  I told her that my revelations would not have added much to the evening (and they probably wouldn’t have.)  She really didn’t like that.  I think she’s convinced that my words will cause awe and wonder.  I don’t think so.  So be it.

But that wasn’t why I kept silent.  The real reason I didn’t volunteer my growth activities is because I don’t have any.  I don’t have a plan.  I don’t have a strategy, and I don’t plan activities to enhance my growth. I am just not intentional about my spiritual renewal.

I didn’t  spout off about my plan and activities, ’cause I didn’t have any.  And I was embarrassed to admit that I didn’t.

Anyway.  While the others in the room were describing their activities (reading the word, meditating, memorizing prayer, etc.), I was looking at a picture.  A picture in my head.

I saw one of those red and white fishing floats (a bobber — fitting) on the surface of a body of  water, rising and falling with the waves on the surface.  I was the bobber.

No intentionality.  None.  Just riding the wave.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I read, I pray, I memorize, etc.  I do the same activities the others described.  I just don’t do them with intentionality.

I read my Bible.  Daily.  OK, I LISTEN to the audio version for Job, Psalms, Isaiah, and the other books that are broken up into lines of poetry.  I cannot read poetry, or any other text where the lines are broken like that (maybe I do have a form of autism or Asperger’s.)  Do I grow spiritually from regularly reading (listening)?  I think so.  But I don’t feel right telling a group of people that I read my Bible daily in order to grow spiritually.  I don’t read with the intention to grow.  I read because I love and have to read.

I pray (funny — every time I say or hear the word “pray” I immediately hear Fleetwood Mac’s “Oh Well” in my head.) I’d like to be able to talk to God like Job did.  But mostly I just ask, “Why?”  I’m not very good at personal relationships.  I think my inability to relax in interpersonal relationships (with normal folks and with God) is an area of my life in which I’m still insisting on autonomy (now that’s interesting –in the one area of my life where I’m actually trying to interface with the creator of the universe, and I’m insisting on control.  Get me.)

I don’t meditate.  While I can sit for hours without moving, I cannot seem to quiet my mind.  I’ve been taught more than one technique, and have tried many times.  Meditation was huge in the 70’s and 80’s when I was going through all those alcohol rehabilitation programs.  I just never got it.

I’m looking for a graceful way to end this little ditty.

I’ll just aplogize to Mary for not talking (again) and go away…..