Rhythms of Growth. Linda Douty
but how we experience it in real time and in the complexity of daily living.
Then a third theme started weaving into the mix: the ways the cycles of nature—planting and harvesting, weeding and watering, punishing droughts and nourishing rains—reflect spiritual formation. That pulsing drumbeat of creation speaks to the steady beating of our own hearts. Those sacred rhythms, so evident in the created order, began to suggest this book’s structure.
Even though the rhythms of spiritual growth hum with the rhythms of nature’s pace, we never seem to cease in our efforts to control the process of our own unfolding. Oh, how we try to make those rhythms adapt to culture’s pace—setting goals, measuring spiritual success, micromanaging our life in the Spirit as if it were a business project! But the template just won’t fit. We can cooperate with God’s holy process, but we can’t control it.
The drumbeat of seasons—nature’s and our own—stays steady but seldom constant. There are ups and downs, stops and starts, assurances and surprises. The seasons come and go pretty much on schedule, but the events within them are sometimes fast-paced staccatos and sometimes plodding andantes. The rhythm of hurt and healing, for instance, happens to the trees and to us as well. In a single instant, a bolt of lightning can split a massive oak, or a person can trip and tumble down the stairs. However, the pace of healing (for both) is part of an unfolding miracle that we didn’t invent and can’t control. This erratic change of tempo shows itself in other ways:
• We can experience flashes of inspiration that light up every corner of our lives, much like a pond lily that suddenly bursts open. The flash of inspiration leaves us with the slow task of living out those lofty insights.
• We can vow with utter conviction to become thankful, joyous people, only to hear ourselves complaining ten minutes later.
• Our hearts can surge with love for all humankind, then we blow our top when someone cuts us off in traffic.
• We can feel showered with grace one moment and steeped in spiritual drought the next.
Yet, the beat goes on.
The passages of the authentic spiritual journey require patience and faithfulness. It helps to learn the lessons of creation as it coaxes us into its natural patterns. We allow seasons of the soul to unfold, and we stay alert to the divine invitations hidden there. Winter calls us to reflect and regroup in the stillness. Spring beckons us to tend the seeds of growth that God plants deep within us. Summer says, “Bear fruit and share it with the world!” Autumn invites us to let go with the leaves.
The seasonal themes in the book are supported by both scripture and a brief breath prayer—a kind of prayer that engages the body. The breath prayer method—repeating a short phrase on the inhale and a petition on the exhale—will bring the concepts into the body and enhance their understanding. The beauty of a breath prayer comes in its brevity and portability. We may think or utter it anywhere, anytime—standing in a grocery store line or during a bout of insomnia at 3 a.m. The more often, the better.
At the close of each meditation I provide a suggestion for reflection. Rather than an assignment to be completed, I hope the words serve as a launching point for the leading of the Holy Spirit.
The cycles of the seasons shape the monthly topics:
January invites us to listen to winter, emphasizing the productivity of inactivity. We explore the difficulties and delights of silence, along with practical suggestions for finding the possibilities lurking in the shadows of quiet moments. Tips are offered to declutter minds, calendars, and spirits.
February is dedicated to the topic of discernment and decision making—from listening to the subtle guidance of the body to distinguishing between the whispers of God and the shouts of the ego. We learn to sense when we might be committed to a commitment to which we no longer feel committed! Then we will develop greater clarity in the use of our gifts and graces for the good of others.
In March we embark on an “archaeological dig” in the garden of our souls to see what’s really there. In the rocky process of exploring the soul’s interior garden, we unearth the sticks and stones that litter the path to wholeness.
April deals with the inevitable downpours of despair, the rainy seasons of our lives when grief and loss become part of the soul’s landscape. Practical suggestions on coping with dark times and discovering the graces in such upheaval are included.
The entries in May help us recognize the sprouts and flowers in the growing garden of the soul—the process of “greening.” We’ll consider the role of pruning, as well as tolerating imperfect “blooms” and “weeds.”
In June we learn what it takes to be good caretakers of growth through spiritual disciplines and innovative methods of prayer. Exploration of music, books, sabbath rest, and other practices helps us open windows to the light of God that surrounds us.
July focuses on the formation of fruits of the Spirit—showing how the fruit moves from idea to incarnation—and how we live out those attributes daily in service to others. We delve into the experience of spiritual drought, as well as the ways in which we stunt the growth of our inner garden.
August looks at the value of a change of pace, those times apart that refresh us as we visit the beach, the mountains, the rivers, the desert, or the sanctuary of our homespun holidays. These diversions provide unexpected invitations to stir our souls.
September’s theme of letting go explores the territory of loss and gain, with an emphasis on breaking the momentum of old patterns that choke the spirit. These meditations target behaviors related to control, worry, pessimism, and anxiety. They teach us how to move from the desire to let go to practices that enable us to do it.
October celebrates the brilliant colors of creativity and their role in making us artists of life. Pursuits such as painting, music, pottery, cooking, woodworking, and more are introduced as intentional spiritual practices that spark our aliveness.
November contains the many rhythms of gratitude that help transform us from people who simply make a list of blessings into people whose lives are immersed in thanksgiving, from people who habitually say thank-you into people from whom gratitude flows naturally.
In December, we celebrate not only the birth of Jesus but the birth of new life within us. Hopefully, the exercises of the previous eleven months will be reflected in subtle shifts of the Spirit that begin to show up in our lives. Each day will feature a different signpost that points to spiritual transformation.
I’m convinced that we weren’t put on this earth to be “successful” in our spiritual lives but to surrender to the sacred rhythms of the One who sustains us. This Force that animates everything—the whole of reality—empowers us to grow and flourish. We are cherished offspring of a Love that will never let us go.
Genuine transformation of the spirit is not about getting our ticket to heaven punched. It’s about releasing our well-meaning agendas to the One who created these cycles of change in the first place—being wide open to grace.
Living into that stunning reality tunes us to the sacred rhythms of the soul—enabling us to love God, ourselves, and others with the love we were born to give.
“Be still, and know that I am God!”
—PSALM 46:10
BREATH PRAYER
Speak, O God, . . . for I am listening.
JANUARY 1 • A New Beginning
Winter is quiet. Winter waits. Winter respects the organic changes taking place under the surface. Listening to winter means that we dare to follow its example.
The