Mystery

Friday morning - I am up by 5. Instead of going to Chapel for the morning service I decide to stay put and watch the sunrise. Bundled up to ward off the chill, I settle into a chair and wait.

Out in the darkness, masses of turkeys begin sounding off from opposite sides of the camp. How to describe a turkey call? It is unlike anything else I have ever heard. Rusty, grating notes are dotted with occasional gobbles. After five minutes or so it becomes comical...like they are having a pep rally in the dark. "We've got spirit, yes, we do. We've got spirit. How 'bout you?!" After fifteen minutes or so, they stop and the silence is deafening.

Two owls begin a dialogue. They, too, take turns hooting back and forth to one another. One voice is deep and strong. The other voice is higher and belongs to a smaller bird. I wonder...are they mates? or parent and child? I find myself smiling at their steady conversation.

The sun rises. Without fanfare. Hmm. I had expected to be dazzled but instead the colors are muted and hazy. Disappointed, I hear myself thinking (rather ungraciously),

That's it? I skipped Chapel for that?

Grabbing my journal, I head to the third floor of the Big House where there is a small steel staircase that leads to "Mt. Sinai" -- the lookout tower on the roof. It has become a part of my routine to spend some time here before I leave. From this vantage point I can see for miles in all directions.

Looking out over the palm trees and the retreat grounds, I try to pinpoint the shift that has taken place within me since yesterday morning, when I woke up giddy with joy. It started during my walk on The Way of Peace..continued back in my room with the unwelcome pop-up image that made its way into my mind...and persisted after my nap when I woke up with the strong desire to go home. I may have resisted the urge to leave, yesterday, but my staying came with a price. Now I feel weighted down...somber, serious, heavy with something I can't name...

As I ponder the last 24 hours, fog rolls in before my eyes. The heavy clouds of moisture are traveling so low that their droplets touch my skin as they move past. Within minutes the retreat grounds are shrouded in a blanket of mist. I can see the sky above the fog but the grounds are no longer visible.

I decide the morning fits my mood or maybe it is my mood that fits the morning.

I came seeking God's voice. What did I hear? What have I learned?

I long to fly but I am afraid.
Pruning by the Father is a necessary part of growing.
Flying and dying go hand-in-hand when you follow Christ.
Peace is a byproduct of seeking God's direction.
Seasons in the wilderness allow God to reveal new beginnings.
Healing comes through intentional reflection.
Duty is a part of being a servant of Christ.
Spiritual lessons cycle us higher/closer to the Father.
"The reality of the unknown is fear." -- Father Kelly
"The reality of the Mystery of God is peace." -- Father Kelly
My soul needs regularly scheduled Sabbath time.
Giving thanks dispels fear and anxiety and invites God's peace.

Yesterday's Chapel message runs through my mind: Wisdom trumps everything, including evil, because it comes from God. It occurs to me that what I am feeling, right now, is the weight of wisdom. The lessons the Lord has taught me these past few days are heavy with the fullness of a deeper understanding...

I must be diligent about naming my fears and claiming God's truth over them.
Flying requires surrender and focus on Christ.
Evil is real and knows my name but will always flee at the name of Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ is with me, always.
I serve, love, and belong to the God of Job. He doesn't have to explain Himself to me.
The Great I AM is my Father.
Living a life of faith requires embracing the mystery of God.

I have the sense that God is waiting for me to respond to all that He has revealed.

I am distracted by the sound of stirring birds. The palm trees to my right are filled with a dozen or more roosting vultures. Each tree's branches bend under their load.

One by one, the birds launch from their resting site. They flap their heavy wings; looking awkward and clumsy. The air pulses from their efforts to stay afloat. In a matter of seconds, though, they find their rhythm and the air current that allows them to soar.

I watch as they move into the distance and begin their lazy spirals in the sky...their view of the ground completely obscured. The Lord uses the image to issue an invitation to me. The Spirit whispers in my ear,

"Come fly with Me. Explore the mystery of Me. Do not be afraid to venture into the unknown. I will be your Guide."

Yes, Lord, take me flying.

Impressions from Henri Nouwen's Sabbatical Journey come to mind. I appreciate this holy man's brilliance (his gifting, really), for putting the experiences of God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit into words that an ordinary person, like me, can grasp. But the thing that I most closely identify with is his transparency; his willingness to reveal his own needs and insecurities even in the light of knowing Christ.

I want to be this kind of writer for you, Lord. I want my struggle to be plain even as my hope and faith in You is evident. Show me how...

With that declaration, I climb down the stairs and head to my van. The fog cocoons my vehicle as I drive away from the retreat center. I leave as I came...slowly and with anticipation...only this time, the wisdom of Father Kelly's words ring in my ears,

"The reality of the Mystery of God is peace."

"Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly

make known the mystery of the gospel,

for which I am an ambassador in chains.

Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should."

-- Ephesians 6:19-20