Psalms in the Silence

Be Still and Know that I am God

Psalm 46:10 

We had such a beautiful "Great Silence" retreat this spring.  Every retreatant was able to come.  The weather was perfect, sunny and not too hot.  The food prepared by our very own contemplative chef was tasty and delicious ... it really makes a difference!  Our theme was the Psalms and we found lovely creative ways to enter into them as we followed Walter Brueggemann's Spirituality of the Psalms  to structure our retreat.   

The bible is the grand story of God and God’s people as they journey together.   In the journey there are basically 2 movements within 3 spaces.  We see movements toward God and movements away from God, dancing through life with one another, we move.  

Brueggemann has a wonderful way of inviting us to see those 3 dancing spaces of life reflected in the Psalms:  Orientation, Disorientation, and (often surprising) Reorientation.  As we moved through our retreat, we practiced this rhythm … practicing the rhythm invites us and increases our trust that after every bout of disorientation there will be a reorientation to invite us deeper in our relationship with God, often with a delightful surprise.

We worked with images as we created Psalm Collages and some of us wrote our own Psalms from scratch.  We sat by the lake and we hiked through the woods as, gazing upon beauty, the Psalms came alive for us.  

Perhaps you might like to try your hand at writing a Creation Psalm:

Take your Journal and go on a walk in the presence of God in Creation.   If you can't take a walk, gaze upon a photo of nature that draws you in and allows you to walk in your imagination.  As you walk, breathe in the beauty and wonder you find.   Now … be still in the Presence.   As you become attuned to the nature that envelops you, take time to write down what you notice.  Use these prompts to start writing.  Let the words flow without thinking about them now. 

• I see … I hear … I smell … I feel the texture of … 
• How is God present in Creation?  
• How does God make God-Self known to you here? 
• What does the beauty of your surroundings remind you of … any memories emerge? 
• I want to ask God our Creator this about what I have experienced in nature …  
• I want to tell God our Creator that creation is, for me … or Creation feels like …  
• When I consider the presence of God in creation, I sense a desire to say the following phrase over and over again …
  

Consider the impact and effect nature has had on you today and look over what you have written, circling words and/or phrases that you are drawn to.  You are ready to write a psalm employing the Hebrew literary device used by many of the psalmists, known as parallelism, in which the second line repeats the structure of the first line, such as in the psalm verses above.  Note the way the author has used parallelism … Try these exercises:

• Lists:  Make a short list of things you found on your walk that you are thankful to God for.  Take your list and express your thankfulness to God. (Ps 83:13-15) 
• Restatement:  The first line is not repeated, it is restated.  Write a statement to God about what you found on your walk in nature and then restate it.  (Ps 148:1) 
• Questions: Write several lines, each beginning with “Why …”  (Ps 74:1) 
• Repetition:  Take a word or phrase and alternate with new lines.  (Ps 118) 
• Addressing the Divine:  Consider new names and images of God evoked by your walk

My personal favorite resource for Psalm writing is Writing the Sacred: A Psalm-Inspired Path to Appreciating and Writing Sacred Poetry by Ray McGinnis 

Enjoy ... Psalms in the Silence!
 

The Great Silence: Invitation to Silence

For You alone my soul waits in silence;

From the Beloved comes my salvation.

Enfolding me

with strength and steadfast love,

My faith shall remain firm….

In the Silence rests my freedom

and my guidance,

for You are the Heart of my heart,

You speak to me in the Silence.

Trust in Love at all times, O people

Pour out your heart to the Beloved;

Let Silence be a refuge for you.

~Psalm 62, Nan Merrill, Psalms for Praying

Gathering together to focus our attention on God during our silence, we pondered this psalm by engaging in a modified Lectio Divina (sacred reading) ... As you hear the sacred text, are there words that call to you?   As I read and heard the words, "let silence be a refuge for you" I knew God was calling me.  And is there an invitation here for you?  The invitation that God is extending to me is to see my ditch as a refuge and to let the silence envelop me, to let God wrap me in gentle presence as I sink into the silence.  And how do you respond to that invitation?   Gasping for soul-breath, I smile on the inside ...

and I write, from my journal: As I enter the silence, I am finding the ditch I am laying in is a river of grief and more but what more I don't know yet.  As  I find myself laying in that ditch, looking upward for God, trying to make sure all is well ... For you alone my soul in silence waits, O God and I try to lay in the ditch allowing silence to be my refuge.

You have called me into this silence

to be grateful for what silence I have

and to use it by desiring more.

~Thomas Merton, Dialogues with Silence

I am so grateful for the silence.  The silence is a refuge.  The ditch is a refuge for I find Silence within it.   And I smile again for I have found myself to be a "ditch-dweller" and that is just fine with me.

I am one who, while laying on her back in the water staring up at the sky, wonders about God.  I am the rocks impeding the peacefulness of the water, causing ripples and splashes and chaos in the river.  I am the water, soft and pliable, moving around all obstacles in my path, finding a new way of being.  I am the waves, I never stop, flowing in and flowing out.  I am the hedges, a growing wall to keep others out of my inner sanctum.  I am the pathway, inviting others on the journey.  I am the sand, gritty and irritating, finding a way to cause trouble just by being me.  I am the bridge, ornate and beckoning others to journey from one side to the other, but why?  and to where?  no where?  I am the pinnacle, watching over the land of my soul, remote and distant ... yet perhaps I observe from afar, keeping my distance but also keeping my perspective.   This is what I hope of myself, the ditch-dweller.

When God threw me, a pebble, 

into this wondrous lake, 

I disturbed its surface with countless circles.
But when I reached the depths 

I became very still.   ~Kahlil Gibran

Oh how still nature is ... and may I become that still, may I find rest and peace in the Silence

The most basic experience of Silence is intimacy.

We feel an intimacy with the world, 

as if we are within everything around us 

rather than behind or alongside

things that we are looking at ... 

we feel how we, in our individuality, 

are a part of a vast and mysterious world ... 

when we cultivate Silence to the point

that we are consciously within it

rather than imagining that it is in us,

we cannot be other than what we are."

~Robert Sardello, Silence: the Mystery of Wholeness

journaling with an image in my journal ...

I am a tiny vessel on a vast sea.  This isn't a bad thing when I am feeling God's love as the sea, relentlessly rolling in waves upon the beach, never stopping, never ending.  However, I am not feeling God's love.  I am not feeling God's ever presence.  O so deeply I am feeling God's profound absence which is rather surreal because I still "know" that you are there, God, you are here.  I just don't feel you or rather I can't "sense" you.  And yet, here I am, talking to you as if I am talking to myself.  Today, I use this lovely word "vast" to speak of you.  You are as vast as the ocean, as the sky, as the world, as the universe and all of creation beyond what the eye can see or the mind can imagine and that is vast!  You are all that is and interestingly, you are all that is not.  You simply are.  And there is something about the depths of the ocean and the expanse of the sky that invites me to let go and melt into the vastness of creation ... In you alone do I find rest and peace, my sweet, incredible, invincible, amazingly absent God ... In you alone do I find my rest and peace.

 

 

 Amen!

Take this Link to Part 3: The Great Silence: Invitation to Awareness

To begin this journey from the beginning, take this link:  The Great Silence

a new perspective

Meditation is the soul's perspective glass.
~Owen Feltham

I opened the door and stepped out into the crisp cool air of autumn in the South.  I breathed in the silence of the morning and took a step into the world of nature and contemplation.

As I came to the end of the street, I wondered ... what if I turn a different way?  What if I turn right instead of left?  And so, adventurous soul that I am, I turned right with a thrill of anticipation.  

Suddenly a whole new world opened up for me.  I saw everything from a new perspective.  

As I crossed the street and came to the pond down the road, the landscape arose before me ... I put the camera to my eyes to capture this beautiful gift I had received and found I had the wrong lens.  No matter what I did or where I turned ... I could not capture the breadth of this amazing vista with its plethora of trees, different but muted fall colors, extraordinarily interesting stagnant water of the pond welcoming the rush of falling water over the rocks, clearly bright blue sky with its sparsely strung but fluffy white clouds floating in their lazy way.  

I set the camera aside for awhile and just sat ... receiving the gift of a new perspective.  

Sometimes we are not meant to capture, we are just meant to receive.  

And then, perhaps we are called to get up and walk a little further on our path, for another gift is waiting up ahead, just around the corner!   

Reflections on Silence, Dwelling in Silence

My Silence at the Monastery

I pray privately each morning, watching for a sunrise that never materializes ... fog and clouds obscure the sun's rising for the most part ... praying the psalms, lectio divina, journaling and simply watching nature through the window.  On Thursdays the monks pray their afternoon prayers privately so today I am on my own.  And the vastness of the silence opens before me.  The design of a contemplative retreat takes us on a descent into the depths of God, and ourselves in God, while our ascent happens on the back side.  I sense that today will take me to my deepest point as I enter into, not simply silence, but solitude.  There is both a simmering excitement and a tingle of trepidation in my soul as I seek the place of "dwelling" within God and God within me.

My word from last night's evening psalm emerges again this morning before I even open up the morning psalms.  Am I behind already?    

Trust in the Lord.  ~from Psalm 115:11

Perhaps this begs the question:  Do I trust in the Lord?  And yet, I wonder "What is trust?" and "What does trust look like in my life?" and How does that trust feel?

Even as I want to say that "I trust the Lord," I'm not exactly sure, it's so easy to say with a dismissive gesture but ever SO hard to do, I think.  I want to be control of my-self, of my life ... of those things that affect me.  And right now there are many things going on in my life that affect me.  I wonder and yes, I worry, but I know that I shouldn't ... I should "just trust in the Lord."  There is that dismissive gesture again.  Taking a deep breath ... I remember yesterday's word:  All day and into the night I will seek your face, O God.

Always we begin again.  ~A book on Benedictine living by John McQuiston

Begin again, I shall!  I read my morning psalms, 146 and 147 ...I'm hearing "God heals my broken heart and binds up my wounds."  Ok, dear God, you must tell me about my broken heart.  Have I a broken heart?  Have I not cried enough tears over my own brokenness?  How does my heart cry out over the brokenness of the world?  How shall I find the healing touch of wholeness in your love today?  

May you be drenched with the longing for peace, and make justice blossom on earth.

~Hildegard of Bingen

Ahhh, the journey from a broken heart to a longing for peace.  And not just a longing but a drenching with longing.  Such a beautiful word ... drenching.  And perhaps the silence I am experiencing in these woods is both a drenching in peace and a longing for peace that deepens my soul and widens my heart to embrace the world, aching for justice to blossom ... an unfolding of your presence, O God.

Spiritual silence demands a deep presence to oneself in each moment ... 

silence allows things to emerge in their own wholeness.

~Richard Rohr, Silent Compassion

I believe that silence can, if one is ready and willing, create an empty space in the soul along with a deep hunger to be filled ... with silence.   I am ready, O God.  I am willing, O God.  Make the empty space in my soul larger, fill me deeper and wider with the healing presence of the Silence that is you.  Make me whole, O God ... as whole as I can be ... so whole that I am only and always who I am.

I had a small "kitchenette" in my room which consisted of a small table, a mini-fridge and a small microwave.  There was a coffee pot, too, but I don't drink coffee. 

As I sit, eating my solitary lunch, looking out upon the squirrels at my window, I remember how good my food tastes in the silence.  Each morsel is a lovely delight and full of zest.  I'm not sure who enjoyed their lunch more, me or the squirrels! 

There were 3 of them, my squirrels, taking sweet moments to tease each other.  One was quite jumpy and almost anytime I moved, he ran to the tree and froze in this lovely defensive position.  One rarely showed himself at the edge of my viewing area.  He was larger and wiser, I suppose.  One didn't seem to mind my presence at all.  She came close and dug deep and came up with juicy orange tidbits that she enjoyed with gusto.

I really didn't mind bringing my own food and preparing a couple of simple meals and a few fruit and nut snacks.  When I encounter the silence, I find that I am not as hungry ... or since I am not so frantically moving through my life ... I consider each bite and notice when I am satisfied more likely. It is good, so good.

Breathe deep ... feel the sacred well that is your own breath.

Breathe deep ... Breathe deep ...Breathe deep.

I walk down the gravel road along the edge of the monastery

The horses and the cows, they didn't seem to care that much for my presence.  Hello, over here!  The horse snorted at me and cows just kept eating.

So I make my way back onto the grounds and walk around the tiny lake by the chapel. I sit in the silence and contemplate the flowers, the trees, and Mary, Mother of God.  She is a great protector and a fine companion for the silence.  She is strong and understands my heart.

As the day winds down, I read the Gospel passage from the Daily Office for Vespers.  It is a beautiful passage for a beautiful day, Matthew 28:16-20 and these words shimmer on the page.  I find such comfort and rest for my soul ... Remember I am with you always, to the end of the age." And I pray, returning to the word from my first day, the word that seems to be the foundation of my silent retreat.  "All day and into the night, I will seek your face, O God."  Is this a paradox?  I seek you with a desperate longing, God, my Love, but you are always with me.  As I rest in the silence, I realize I see you everywhere.  I see you in the ducks and the squirrels, the horses and the cows, the trees and the flowers.  I feel your love in the monks and hear you in their chants.  Silence quite simply makes your presence real to me.  As I lay my head upon the pillow, I know deep down in my soul that I see you in the mirror, too.  Deep.

Either you see God in all things

or very quickly you cannot see God anywhere.

~Richard Rohr, Silent Compassion 

Take this link for Part 4 of Reflections on Silence:  Lingering in Silence

The only noise now was the rain ...

“The only noise now was the rain, 

Lakeview Methodist Conference Center

 pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature 

for the tangled passions of humans.”

~ Sherwood Smith

Nature Moves in Silence

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.  ~Mother Teresa

The Moon over Hood Canal, Washington

Using the Senses to Pray with Nature

I've been on retreat since Thursday ... I found myself 


Praying in the Four Directions, Praying with the Four Elements and I engaged with nature


We had a lovely Morning Prayer at an Outdoor Pavilion at the Wesley Center in Woodworth, Lousiana.  We were led by a soul friend of mine which makes this all the more delightful.  


We engaged in Visio Divina in 4 directions ... We were invited to turn from our inward circle to an outward facing circle and I began facing North.  I almost gasped as turned and felt the overwhelming presence of God.  I know I smiled as I breathed all the way to my toes.  After my lovely time day of prayer the week before, a time in which I experienced God as the Gentle Rain on my Soul ... well, the wind often changes quite abruptly and several days later things had shifted ... I wrote in my journal about God the raging thunderstorm in my soul.  I wrote about feeling as though I was a little dinghy floating about no longer moored at my soul dock.   

As I looked upon the lake to the North, there was a little boat one one side and 

feeling like a little dinghy ... restless and

there was the dock on the other side.    feeling no longer moored at my soul dock ...

Turn to the East and I was staring at a brick wall ... 

feeling the heat of the day, or perhaps the passion of a 

wild heart as I gaze upon the bricks fired in the kiln

Turn to the South and felt the breeze blowing gently across my cheek and through my hair ... ahhhh

feeling light and joyful

Turn to the West and Pine Trees growing in the Earth along the edge of the Lake.  

feeling grounded and 

reaching for God 

with the Trees

in Praise and Thanksgiving

As I pondered this experience, I realized I had just experienced the four elements in prayer ... the water of the lake, the fire that created the bricks in all their different colors, the air as the gentle breeze, and the quiet earth that held the long, tall pine trees ... It is enough.  Amen.

God is the Gentle Rain falling on my Soul

I spent last Monday in silence at the Ruah Spirituality Center of the Villa de Matel here in Houston.  This monthly day of silence is a regular spiritual discipline in my Rhythm and Rule of Life and it keeps my soul breathing.


I sat in my little room gazing out the window, watching the rain fall steadily upon the trees ... all day long, the constant sound of the rain wrapped me a deep sense of the holiness of nature.  Julian of Norwich says, "Nothing less than God can satisfy."  I am realizing that my deepest longing these days is to "be" as satisfied as the trees who stand with their face toward the rain falling from the sky ... greening in the process.  


I meditated on this line from Psalm 62:1a, "My soul finds rest in God alone."  Julian says, "God is our Full Rest."   Full Rest ... always I find that when I sink deeply into God my Full Rest, I sleep for a time in the safety of the silence with no one to disturb ... my "smart" phone tucked away so it cannot tempt me to check on the world.


In the morning, I took up my journal and wrote these first 3 lines ... fell into a light sleep and when I woke in the afternoon I wrote the next 3 lines ...


God is the gentle rain falling on my soul


keeping my soul alive


bringing life to the world




God is the gentle rain falling on my soul


drenching my soul with love


flooding the world with Presence




As I reflect on these words that emerged from deep within myself, I realize how "parched" my soul had been when I arrived to sit in the silence ... as the day unfolded my soul drank deeply of the silence and the love poured upon me.  In that present moment I felt the Full Rest who is God.


Dear Ones, may you be blessed on your journey by Full Rest and my you offer Full Rest to others with great love and affection ... Amen.

Haiku 4

Image and haiku © Cindy Serio 2011

summer mushrooms wild

exploding red-orange orb

beautiful reveal

Haiku 3

Image and haiku © Cindy Serio 2011

summer drought brings death

brown leaves crumbling decay dust

 earth welcomes gently

Like a Willow Tree

Like a Willow Tree, I am
Planted in the good, kind earth
Bending in the gusty wind
Inhaling the breath of God



Perched on my
long flowing branches
assorted birds of many colors…
red birds happy
Singing God’s praises
yellow birds hungry
Singing for their supper
blue birds wounded
singing no more

Dragonfly Dragonfly
I see you duck
Dragonfly Dragonfly
I see you dart
In and out
Out and about
come quickly to keep me company
then quickly you’re off to light on another

Why O Why, dear Spirit
do I so often feel like
an ugly tree weed
out of place, armed and ready
for someone to cut me down
toss me out, rip me up
from my tender home in the good, good earth

Weeping, Weeping
Like a Willow Tree I am!

©July 2004, rewritten June 2011

Psalms and Camp for Summer!

I am living in and praying with the Psalms this summer!   In addition to using the psalms as my personal prayer-book, I am leading a Summer Class on Sunday mornings and writing my bible study blog on the Psalms.  What I love about the psalms is the raw emotion that flows in and out from them ... they are messy, just like life!  Sometimes I'm happy and sometimes I'm angry and sometimes I am filled with joy but sometimes I'm overwhelmed with grief.  Sometimes, I just want to praise God for who God is and what God creates.  It's all right there ... in the psalms!

I spent this week with senior high kids at Lakeview Methodist Conference Center close to Palestine, Texas.  Pictures available soon!  It was exhausting and HOT ... I loved the time we spent together in the morning worshiping by the lake which was so peaceful ... I got to draw and pray in the silence.  But by far the most beautiful moment was in the evening as I was walking from one activity to another ... the sun reflecting into the clouds ... making them shine and glow in a myriad of beautiful colors ... inviting me into prayer ...

God of all Creation ... Let your people be happy
   and celebrate because of you.

Our God, you are the one
   who rides on the clouds, and we praise you.
 
Your name is the LORD, and we celebrate
   as we worship you.  From Psalm 68: 3-4