Rhythms of Growth. Linda Douty
A humble spirit also opens us to what I call “nonthinking thinking,” which exposes us to intuition, feeling, and deeper divine guidance.
Reflect: Explore the content of your doubts. God may be inviting you to expand and grow!
JANUARY 23 • Divine Discontent
Years ago, an insightful spiritual director taught me something profound about spiritual restlessness. I still recall the words of my lament.
“I’ve sort of ‘fallen off the wagon’’,’ I confessed. “My devotional time is dry and boring. My mind wanders, and I feel as if my prayers are bouncing off the ceiling. What used to be so fulfilling just isn’t working anymore. There’s something wrong with me.”
Rather than the concerned response I expected, my spiritual director’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Mmmm,” she mused, “sounds like you have a serious case of divine discontent!”
My director’s response puzzled me. Then she added, “If we never felt a spiritual ‘itch,’ how could God lead us into deeper truth? We would simply stay with the status quo and never grow. Look at this experience not as a condemnation from the Spirit but an invitation!”
I assumed she would help me fix my situation—give me a stricter discipline, a better book maybe. So I got out a pen and paper, ready to record her cure.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” I asked expectantly.
“I have no idea,” she replied. “Just continue to show up, and be open to God’s guidance.” I was disappointed.
For months, my morning routine had been as precise and punctual as I was, as I studied and prayed in a predictable formulaic manner. That is, until the dryness and boredom set in, accompanied by a vague guilt that somehow I was being lazy or disobedient or not doing it right.
I tried to dismiss my own judgments and pray through the discontent, asking God to reveal unexplored methods of connecting to the sacred. Soon I felt a need to explore my natural ways of feeling and expressing, even incorporating prayer into my walking routine. My body began to connect with the sounds, sights, and smells of creation, breathing fresh energy into my spiritual practice. But the guilt remained—that fear of divine displeasure.
Then a lightbulb flashed. I realized that my belief in God as stern judge was constricting my spirit. I had to let that punitive image go in order to relate to God as enlivening joy. Loosening my demanding grip on myself began to have a domino effect. I became less exacting and legalistic with those around me too. I began to cut us all some slack!
I caught a glimpse of spiritual freedom.
Reflect: When have you experienced divine discontent? Consider the restlessness as an invitation rather than a condemnation. Be open to God’s leading to the next step of your faith journey.
JANUARY 24 • Learned Ignorance
One hallmark of spiritual growth comes in knowing that we don’t know. We make friends with uncertainty and become aware of our own ignorance—even embracing it as necessary to our growth as human beings.
Certainty about what is true pits us against one another and keeps us from learning anything new. Paradoxically, our admitting that we don’t have a corner on the truth opens us to revelations of truth.
Over five hundred years ago, the German cleric Nicholas of Cusa was sailing home from Constantinople when a personal experience of God changed his life and philosophy forever. God slipped in past his intellect, bypassing his brainy certainties. Cusa’s writings coined the phrase, “learned ignorance.” It reminds me of God’s warning to Moses on Mount Sinai, “You cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live” (Exod. 33:20). Mystery cannot be caught in our net of words or fully known by our finite minds.
Wise sages through the centuries have attested to the value of mitigating intellectual knowledge with experiences of the heart and soul. In contemporary life, we sense this need when we contrast reading a book about prayer and actually engaging in prayer! Whether we call it “holy emptiness” or “poverty of spirit” or “beginner’s mind,” knowing that we do not know is the beginning of wisdom.
Reflect: Today be willing to suspend your need to know and allow the Mystery to be mysterious. Sense your soul opening to whatever happens, knowing that the Spirit goes with you.
JANUARY 25 • Being Right
Being right is highly overrated. Even our cherished dream of being able to say “I told you so” never feels quite as good as we think it will. And sweet revenge is not sweet at all. It leaves a rancid aftertaste in the depths of the soul.
Many of us would rather be right than happy. But our compulsion to be right can thwart our communication with others. We all recall conversations that deteriorated into a ping-pong game of one-upmanship. We know what it’s like to give an opinion, only to realize that the other person is busy formulating a rebuttal rather than a response. We also know the feeling of intense competition that wells up inside us as we get attached to winning the verbal battle—the stuff of which ulcers are made and friends are lost.
In addition, the determination to be right—to win—prevents us from learning the crucial difference between tolerance and acceptance. We pat ourselves on the back when we reach a point of tolerance for the opinions of others. We vow to be magnanimous enough to “allow” them to have opinions contrary to ours. We might even go so far as to agree not to interfere with their practice or beliefs, to refrain from trying to convince them of the rightness of our position. However, this level of tolerance still carries an unspoken tinge of judgment, a silent message that “I’m right and you’re wrong.”
Acceptance goes a step farther. It implies a willingness to consider that others’ points of view are as valid for them as yours is for you. It admits the possibility that you may not have all the answers or see the whole picture. We often have much to learn from each other.
Reflect: In dealing with those who disagree with you, notice the difference between tolerance and acceptance. Let grace surround every communication you have today.
JANUARY 26 • Treasuring Time
The passage of time can resemble a speeding train or a snail’s crawl, depending on whom you ask and what’s happening in their lives. Experience dictates time’s meaning, no matter what the clock and the calendar proclaim. Consider these comparisons:
• To realize the value of one month, ask a mother with a premature baby.
• To realize the value of one week, ask a person with a project deadline.
• To realize the value of one hour, ask lovers rushing to a dinner date.
• To realize the value of one minute, ask a person who missed the plane.
• To realize the value of one second, ask a person who just slammed on the brakes to avoid a crash.
• To realize the value of one millisecond, ask a person who just won a silver medal instead of a gold.
You get the idea. And what’s the point of all this? The awareness and appreciation of the power of experience to alter our concepts of time. That knowledge can lead us to suspend our judgments of others who are living through events that affect their sense of time differently.
For example, someone who has recently lost a spouse through divorce or death often eagerly seeks companionship or desires to start dating. To them, three months may feel like an eternity, while observers with busy lives may regard it as “too soon.” A healthy person may experience time as fleeting, while someone with chronic pain agonizes through laborious moments, one at a time.
We can deepen our compassion when we make an effort to walk in someone else’s shoes as the clock ticks.
Reflect: Notice your awareness of time as the day unfolds. When does it speed up or slow down? Allow yourself to breathe a prayer of compassion for others who may be caught in a time trap different from yours.
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