step by single step

Daily Devotion - April 30

I will send a brief message each day (except Mondays)
while we are pausing gathering in person.
- Kara

Jan Richardson has a blessing that begins this way:

For Those Who Have Far to Travel
A Blessing for Epiphany

If you could see
the journey whole,
you might never
undertake it,
might never dare
the first step
that propels you
from the place
you have known
toward the place
you know not.

Call it
one of the mercies
of the road:
that we see it
only by stages
as it opens
before us,
as it comes into
our keeping,
step by
single step.

There is nothing
for it
but to go,
and by our going
take the vows
the pilgrim takes:
to be faithful to
the next step;
to rely on more
than the map;
to heed the signposts
of intuition and dream;
to follow the star
that only you
will recognize;
to keep an open eye
for the wonders that
attend the path...

It is very hard for me to relate to journey metaphors right now. (In the same way, home metaphors are not really working for me either - as the place that beckons you back, the place you long for, the place you feel best. Nope. Not right now).

But this journey-centered blessing "For Those Who Have Far To Go" speaks to something that does feel really real: not knowing where we are going. We don't know where any of this is going.

"If you could see the journey whole, you might never undertake it, might never dare the first step that propels you from the place you have known toward the place you know not."

If we could see, on the front end, where we would end up and what it would take to get there - and if we had any kind of choice about it - we'd likely say, NO THANKS.

But this is true of every valuable thing that has ever happened to me, every significant experience that has ever shaped me.  Great transformation is gutting and painful, beautiful and really hard.  There is gift in not knowing what's ahead.

Last night Andy and I were lamenting about what I kept ruminating on all day yesterday, turning the phrase over in my mind and whispering it to myself: this perpetual present.  This virus and quarantine have taken away the future - at least for now.  In my house, we do so much dreaming about and planning for the future.   Even dread is some form of looking forward that meets a need for anticipation. That's all been taken from us for the time being.  So all we have is the time being, and being in this time.

"Call it one of the mercies of the road: that we see it only by stages as it opens before us, as it comes into our keeping, step by single step."

This will change us, (I'm going to go ahead and claim) mostly for the better. Losing things we don't choose to lose, adapting in ways we wouldn't choose to adapt, stripping away the excess and narrowing our focus to the now - all these things are changing us.
And we don't have to know how, or what we will be or do with that change - in fact, there is no way we can know.  And so perhaps that is one of the mercies - not just of the road but of the staying put too: the map is gone, the anticipation is paused, the plan is thwarted, the road is closed.  We just have to keep living this one life we get, constricted though it is, and trust that the work is being done in us.

"There is nothing for it but to go, and by our going take the vows the pilgrim takes: to be faithful to the next step; to rely on more than the map; to heed the signposts of intuition and dream; to follow the star that only you will recognize; to keep an open eye for the wonders that attend the path..."

So, here's to another night and another day of this standing-still kind of journey we are all on together, and to not knowing what's ahead.  We have far to travel, friends.  Step by single step.  May we be faithful to what's right in front of us, attend to our intuition and dreams, and keep our eyes open to the wonders right here in front of us.

(Some thoughts about the insight and impact of this were shared a few weeks ago in Sabbath Lessons in Quarantine Time).

CONNECTING RITUAL:

A few years ago Lisa Larges created this way of praying for a prayer station we used in worship. It is way praying that acknowledges that God is with us in absolutely every moment. Instead of looking back at a day, or week, and asking "Where was God?" We assume God to be there, and we recollect any moment, and examine it for the presence and activity of God.

MEMORY PRAYER
Reflect back on your day (or week).  Find a moment that was meaningful to you. It may have been a conversation, something you heard or read, a connection with someone, or something that caught your attention in the natural world.

First line:   describe in a few words what you remember.
Second line:    name how God was alive, at work, or present in that moment.
Third line:   offer thanks.

It might look like this:

I remember a long phone call with a good friend. 
God was in the support, laughter, honesty and listening.
I give thanks for friendship.

I remember a quiet morning, before my people were awake.
God was present in the stillness.
I give thanks for new days.

I remember a painful argument with my brother.
God was in the space for hard truths to be spoken.
I give thanks for relationships that endure.

Do a few of them. Write them down if you wish.

I remember... 
God was...
Thank you for...

I remember...
God was...
Thank you for...

Perhaps tonight at bedtime, whenever that is in each of our homes, we might pray in this way and so join our hearts.