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It is with great joy and a deeper rest in my mind and heart that I am returning after 5 weeks of leave.  During this time, I was able to detach from much of my work life and responsibilities and instead focus just on my rest: walking the dog, reading, writing, making meals for my kids when they were home, and just letting myself be.  Thank you to each of you who prayed for me, who supported our common work of Church in my absence.  It was truly a restorative time! 

I return amidst the first days of the season of Lent.  A time of historic significance for the Church, as a period of preparation for Easter, when many were baptized.  A time when many folk take on additional spiritual practices (fasting, prayer and alms-giving are the traditional three).  Some of you may be thinking of giving up chocolate or alcohol – or doomscrolling.  

All of which is well and appropriate to be explored as part of your journey with God in a season of fasting.  But it was as slightly different invitation which resounded so deeply within me over these weeks, and especially leading into Lent, that I wish to share with you.  Much of which came at the dramatic end to my 5-week leave when I entered a five day guided retreat at the Jesuit retreat centre in Los Altos, California.  (Pictured)

Each morning I met with Fr. John Author for spiritual direction and those 45 min meetings were a time of sharing and receiving from John invitations to deeper prayer on my retreat. In the Ignatian way, prompts are given for you to spend time with.  (Have you prayed with the story of Lazarus recently? he asked one morning). This coupled with living in silence for 5 days, where all meals are provided (8 our of 10 for cafeteria food!), and a beautiful grounds of 38 acres to explore (though the first 3 days were fairly typical Victoria whether, the final days warmed up to 18 degrees!)  It was a beautiful time and on the last day that we met, Fr. John shyly asked if he might change roles for a moment and share what God had given him in prayer during the week of providing spiritual direction to myself and 4 others.  “Of course!” I said, eager to hear his insights.

The God of the entire universe is the one who made you and loves you and who has given their only Son to rescue you, to reconcile you, to make you whole, and to be with you!  And we sort of look at all that gift God offers and say, “Hmmm.”  What if Lent were a season we could move from our ho-hum response to one of deeper wonder and delight? 

I paused, slowly lifting my chin from the floor, yes, I said, I also need that invitation.

Another day we met and were given Ignatius of Loyola’s “principle and foundation”  at the start of his Spiritual Exercises, which says that we humans are “created to praise, reverence, and serve God, therein finding salvation.”  Sitting across from Fr. John smiling, he said, "well I may be wrong, but as an ordained person perhaps you find it easy in service and reverence – but just how comfortable are you with praise?"  Well, if this fellow hasn't been reading my mail... this led to another long beautiful conversation and an invitation to spend my whole day in praise.  I took long walks and ended up with my journal slowly writing out a litany, my very own Canticle like St. Francis.  It ended up surprising me to fill 9 pages – going through many different seasons of life, good ones and hard ones, many memories and moments that have brought me to today, offering each up in open hands of praise, entrusting to God all that has been.  What might your litany of praise look like, as you seek to draw nearer to God this Lent?  What seasons or times of your life are the hardest to lift with open hands?  Could you invite God to spend time with you in those places especially?

I was given another beautiful story during this time of an encounter between my spiritual director and a blind person.  Seeing them in obvious distress, standing outside of an office building trying to figure out the door, my director asked, “Sir do you need some help?”  And the reply came, “Oh, would you please, do you have some time?”  It turns out they were heading to a routing appointment in a building they knew, bbut had somehow gotten to the wrong entrance.  They knew it wasn’t right but did not know how to solve it.  With five minutes of discussion and a walk around, my friend gave them help and moved on.  And it was only in coming to prayer that night, that the slow realization came – it was Jesus disguised as the blind man who had visited them that afternoon.  It was the Creator of the whole universe, in disguise, slowing them down, asking “Oh, would you please, do you have some time?”  And so I ask you - could you have some time, this Lent, to slow down, to attend to God in the flesh, disguised all around you, who just might need your help?

Each afternoon I would walk up the hill across the 38 acres, there were beautiful stations of the cross, statues to Mother Mary and St. Francis and many others.  But the most stunning part of that was the day I got to top of the hill when a sudden rain storm burst down.  I wouldn’t have time to get all the way back down the hill without being drenched so I just found a cluster of trees with dense branches to shelter under – and stayed mostly dry.  It blew past fairly quickly and in 8-10 minutes I was back out from under the branches now looking out over those green California hills and the dense cloud formations rolling through.  Just as I was taking that all in, I felt it, gentle at first but stronger and stronger – the sun had come out behind me and was warming me top to bottom.  In front of me was a cluster of dense and intimidating clouds, and I could see rain falling in the distant hills.  But behind me the warmth of the sun breaking through to me – I had only to hold still, to turn around, to take a bit of time, and this ever-present reality was mine to behold, to give praise and thanks, to find deep resonance with this ever-living world, of a loving God who draws near to us, and draws us near to Godself.

Friends, the God of all Creation – who fashioned the universe – longs to dwell with you and with me.  The God of all has come to us in Jesus Christ and shown us what it means to be human, to be a creature, to be ourselves.  This Lent, may I invite you to savour more deeply the invitation just to be with God – to spare some time, to slow right down, to come home.