Day 6 and 7 and 8

Day 6

Today I have sometimes felt so anxious and fearful I have wanted to cry or throw up.
I need to be calm;
'I sought the Lord and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.'

At full stretch with the prayer, including night waking, where I tend to focus on the examen.
The first few nights I just felt ill with it, but the routine's beginning to kick in now.

View from my window
(blackbird steps in shadow on the left)

Day 7

To the Gospel 'Allelujah':
'All creation looks to you,
lifting up our hearts to you' x 2



A blackbird just hopped
all the way down the garden steps!
There is a whole colony of them
in the bushes here;
full of the intrigues and dialogue of bird life.



Day 8

Stormy winds and squally rain,
followed by a languid rainbow.
It's been a tough week - facing up to the worst of ourselves and finding God is still there,
still loving us.
Making a cup of tea in the brew-up area, someone whispers to me,
'It gets worse! Today is hell!' 'I know,' I say, sympathetically,
'My worse day was Thursday.'
I'm soon to find out she means 'Today is HELL,' from an Ignatian perspective!
On our knees again...

Day 4 and 5

Day 4

Amazing, being at prayer with others who know how to be still.
I love what they are teaching me, and watching them worship.

It seems strange that so many of them
will depart today;
the girl of sighs and sniffs,
'Methuselah' with his ancient ways and prays,
the young man with his European shoe,
the calm of veiled-grey nun.

From my own cohort,
we come from so many places -
Norway, Sweden, the Republic of Ireland,
Liverpool, Birmingham, London;
the south east and the south west.
Everyone has their own stories,
and we guess at each others' (a little!);
we won't share them in this time and place,
but there's a sense of being attentive
to each other in this transient community.




Day 5

Today in session we talk about whether as humans,
our flaws are a dark thread in the bright,
or our goodness is a bright thread in the dark...
I think the light gray rain of Wales is simply designed
to make daffodils appear even brighter than they are.



First time I heard the owl last night.
And were those hawks hovering above the wood this afternoon?

Day 2 and 3

                                  
                                                                                           Day 2

 
 

            
A winter-spring walk; February-type sun,
  thigh-high snow on the verges but
    the earth is softening, the fields are heavy with water
       birds sing and lambs bleat their crazy cries.





Interesting, how slowly I have begun to eat. Meals last hours!
At home, surely an irritated partner would flick a tea-towel
                                                      and say, 'do hurry up!'


Day 3

Claire Mulholland's lovely rainbow windows in the Rock Chapel;
a high place with colour and beauty;
Sorrow, harmony, the Holy Spirit, fertility and growth;
imagination, intelligence, warmth and fire.

The Green Window

Listening to birdsong and wind in the trees. Warmth and sunshine today.
Tell me, how is heaven any better than this?
In session today*, we reflect on the idea that 'heaven is not another country...'


*Each day holds a session of up to 45 minutes with a spiritual director, to reflect on the prayer experience of the previous day and be given the set readings for the coming 24 hours.

Blogging St Beuno's - Week 1; Day 1

Travelling in:
Through England, an uncertain spring rising
The fields look bad;
Wales holds snow reluctant to disperse
and sheep with lambs tucked close beside.

 

 

Day 1:

 

Capel-y-Coed

In silence, the sound of eyelids blinking.

 

 

Later, my heart thrumming so loudly, I think it is footsteps in the corridor!

 

Snowdonia,Clwydian Hills, the sea.

A cardiac workout, and without knowing it, I am on Offa's path/
Snow deep, frozen, immutable; going nowhere.
I measure the miles on the map with the Bible's ribbon - further than I thought!

 

Peace is pouring off the walls as people do
their afternoon prayer work.
I sleep soundly and wake feeling
rested and relaxed
Yet aware of many bodily sensations
while I slept
almost as if a healer had been at work.







Walking the labyrinth, I trace
the nine months of pre-birth,
and childhood, spiritual awakening, long teenage years of obedience
the flowing and ebbing of love
and calling, priestly vocation the long, long backbone of it all.

There's so much ahead that I don't know.
What are these short rushes, these longer phases?
All I know is that I thought I'd lost my way but I
kept following the path and it brought me home.

 

 

In chapel, someone talks about the word 'et' - and,

meaning, there's more, always more!
God is a God whose love never ends,

so not of the end, but of the 'and.'

 

The scarlet sun drops into the sea behind the Great Orme. Gorgeous.

 

 

 

 

 

Starting Point

The 'Sunday' I'm blogging about here is my Sabbatical; three months of leave from my day-to-day work as Priest-in-Charge at St. Martin's Church Maidstone. Not that every day feels like Sunday (although Sunday can actually be a bit confusing for a priest!); there are some days that have gone past before I have managed to attach much meaning to them; there are days when three months seems too long to be away.

But I'm learning how important this time is - time for me and for everyone at St. Martin's to reflect. Time for me not to micro-manage the leadership team; time for them to stretch into new roles. Quite what we will do with the changing space between us when I return remains to be seen...

Back in September I submitted a plan for my Sabbatical leave to the Ministry Development Officer of our Diocese, who would then present it to the Bishop. My hopes included a long silent retreat; walking a pilgrim way; writing a reflective theological piece. In short some body/mind/spirit stuff.

I was given  the book 'Clergy Renewal' to read, which helped me to think not simply about my own planning process but how to work with the Church congregation towards this time. And I was encouraged to see my spiritual accompanier regularly, before, during and after this time.

I went to visit her. She helped me to consider that 'it begins now' -  the journey that leads to and through Sabbatical can start in my heart, preparing for what God might have in store as we travel this road together. 

Beginning

What follows has already happened!
I am publishing retrospectively as it seemed really important to focus on what was happening at the time, and not be wondering about how I would blog it...of course there has been some editing (and there are some things that I'm never going to tell you about, because they're for only me and God to know!), but I hope as you read, you will have a sense of the challenges and surprises which this time has already presented to me.

After twelve years of ministry, and six years in this particularly large and busy parish (and fabulous church community), this is also much-needed time for revisiting the call which began it all and re-envisaging ministry here and into the future. In some ways, it has not come a moment too soon.

I've asked for the prayers of the church community -they sent me on my way on Easter Sunday with their blessing - and they are never far from my heart. But the freedom to say Morning Prayer in my pjs and not be racing to plan the next funeral brings a sense of liberation...

So I'm off to St Beuno's in North Wales to undertake the first part of the Ignatian exercises - a spirituality I know very little about. The silent nature of this retreat will, I think, offer some protected space - a lack of competitiveness about who is having the best (or worst) retreat, and having to share life stories over breakfast! After the busy-ness of Holy Week and Easter and of trying to make sure all the bases are covered here, it seems like distant water to refresh my soul.

This is a sixteen day retreat. I've never visited St Beuno's before although it's not a million miles from Manchester Diocese where I previously ministered. I used to opt instead for St Deiniol's, home of Gladstone's library, squashy sofas and tranquil grounds.

Since moving to Kent, St. Mary's Abbey in West Malling has been a constant place of peace and prayer when I have needed space (often in Advent or Lent) as has the lovely Penhurst Retreat Centre in Sussex.

But I've never been to a Catholic house, and ecumenical and inclusive as I like to think myself, this would be a first. St. Beuno's has a particular reputation for its Ignatian retreats, and was also the setting for a short TV series in 2010, 'The Big Silence.' It was a Jesuit training college in the 19th century and Gerard Manley Hopkins studied there. As his poems make my heart sing, the thought of that 'connectedness' is somehow inspiring.

Sixteen days... already it seems like a long time (especially to my partner!)