Life in the Labyrinth

Life in the Labyrinth

How does one practice the presence of God?  Is this a question that wrinkles your brow or brings a smile to your face?  Is prayer, in effect the practice of the Presence?  I believe that prayer is being present to the God who is with us. Zephaniah 3:17 "The Lord your God is with you." (NIV). You have heard me quote Robert Benson before, "Prayer is coming to awareness."  The awareness of which he speaks is of course the awareness of the Presence.   "All things can become prayer when I come to see them as such."

The paradox of prayer is that it asks for a serious effort while it can only be received as a gift.  We cannot plan, organize or manipulate God; but without a careful discipline we cannot receive Him either.   - Henri Noewen -

I experienced the paradox that Nouwen speaks about in a wonderful way last week while on a silent retreat* with friends. I was wonderfully helped by a beautiful prayer labyrinth at the retreat center where we stayed.  A prayer labyrinth is a tool to aid us in prayer and consists of an intricate pathway symbolizing a journey into the center where Christ dwells.  Prayer labyrinths take many forms, some like this one that allow you to physically walk through them, all the way to small "finger" labyrinths on which you trace the path with your finger as you pray.  A labyrinth is not a maze, there are no blind paths to trap you. The journey will take you to the center and the way in to the center is the way back out into the world.  Below are some of my thoughts as I wrestled, received, and then rested in the gift of Presence...

Our retreat leader asked us two questions when we began,  "What is word that describes you as you come, and what do you long to receive?"  The two words for me were "open" and "trust.".  I came open to whatever God might give, I came longing to trust Him more.  Why after 62 years "with" do I so often trust so little?  The picture above is the beautiful sight that greeted me as I wound my down the steep path that lead to the labyrinth.  The beauty, the openness made me impatient to go directly to the center as quickly as I can, I could hardly wait to begin...

 But, the Spirit in me said, "Wait, you are not yet ready to enter...be still, sit, and wait..."  And so I sat on bench outside the path, waiting for my soul to be still enough to walk and listen and not run blind and deaf into His presence.

Then...when it was time...I moved to the way in. 

It is so deceptive, you see, the center looks so close, I feel as I enter the path that I am almost there, but the way is blocked and I circle the center, it is  almost within my grasp, but the path turns and I quickly find myself moving away rather than toward.  I wrestle with the noise and the distractions that fill my mind and try to push down the fears that well up within me.  I must accept that the way in includes this movement toward and away...I must "trust?" that the path leads in, I must push on.

Sometimes the way is almost obscured...

...sometimes it brings a surprise that makes me pause in wonder...

...sometimes my focus in on the next step...

...sometimes on the journey as a whole..

...then at last the way opens...and I am home.

If you look closely, under the cross, you can see where the grass has been flattened.  Something about the awareness of His presence brings us to our knees, it did me, again.  First on my knees and then on my face...so much to confess...my demands, my agenda, my fears, my sin.  When I have let go, released all that I can, I rolled over on my back and...

...looked up into the outstretched arms of Jesus.  

How sweet is that?  I lay for almost two and a half hours listening to the voice of the One who says, "You are my beloved son."  There were times when I would close my eyes and my mind would fill with the worries and the busyness of what is "out there," the committee meeting tomorrow night, the reports to review, you know what I mean...  But, then I would open my eyes and see the cross and feel the rocks that border the center around me and I could feel myself begin to receive the comfort of His presence.  The rustling of the wind in the leaves reminding me of His Spirit in me.  The mystery, the wildness, the reality that the infinite God is here...How cool is that!!

I did not want to leave this place, but I must.  The way out was the way in, the question is, can I take what I have found here out there with me?  Retreat is the place to which we return again and again to find our center in the One who breathed life into us, but it is not the place where life is lived.  It is here that we find what has been given to us to share with those to whom we have been given and who have been given to us.

One the white board when I returned for dinner that evening was this reminder in the words of Juliane of Norwich:

"The place which God takes in our soul, He will never vacate, for in us in His home of homes, and it is the greatest delight for Him to dwell there...the soul who contemplates this is like the One who is contemplated."

This I found in the prayer labyrinth...this gives me life.  Thanks be to God!

*If you have never experienced a silent retreat or are unsure what I am referring to, look into the disciplines of silence and solitude.  I was forty years old before I ever heard of such and for forty years had missed out on the life they give.  I am still a novice, but would love to share what I know if you are unfamiliar with these disciplines.