Deep Soul Nourishment

Very rarely in life do I have time to sit with a friend, take off my shoes, drink coffee, and, speak from my heart. Ironically, I have been doing this lately, with a buddy, and it has meant the world. Even if I have a good friend--which I do--we have to clear out space to meet together. Even when we meet together, we may never get to that place where we resonate. Even if we get to that place of resonation, we are still different people, each that must go back home, and each, with our different perceptions of our time together.




This is the beauty of friendship with God. There are times, places, and parameters that make it hard for God to have a heart to heart with us. Its hard. You cannot just dial up God and lay it all out there. There is either too little time, there is the next traffic light ahead, or, there are kids at home that we have to go put in a new diaper.

But, when I go to the monastery, something different happens. Time takes over, and God starts to come closer and closer. I can try all I want, but I cannot bring myself into the presence of God. God has to admit me. I know that Jesus admits us to God. And yet, rarely am I honest with God. I am only kidding myself. It often takes time at the monastery for me to really get honest. A year of therapy is nothing compared to thirty minutes in silence with Jesus. And even getting to silence is hard. It did not happen for me until Saturday just before lunch. I met with a spiritual director at 9 and he suggested that I spend some time with the blessed sacrament. Now, truly, I did not know what that meant. And yet, I knew that the sacrament was stores in a small chapel in an inner room in the larger sanctuary of the church. So I went there. Around 11 I entered. At 12:00 I headed to lunch. Inside the room, deep spoke to deep. God took me in his arms and did what only God can do for me. He poured himself into me. He opened my eyes to Him. He took my shoes and filled them with His feet. He reminded me that He is with me always. And he is.