THE SPIRITUAL COMBAT

One Amazon order at a time, my bookshelf has filled…three times.  

Three bookcases filled with spiritual classics produces a tremendous pressure on a person who grew up learning to “finish your dinner.  Eat what you put on your plate.”  With food, I learned always to consider carefully how much I thought I could eat…and then serve less than that.  I could always go back for more.  That worked with food.

For books?  You can rightly assume that I have not read every single book in my three bookcases.  It’s not that I don’t try.  In fact, just halfway through reading book one, I am tantalized with book two and open its cover.  With books one and two underway, I can’t resist the new book that just arrived and crack it open.  Then, trying to complete even one of the three books, I carry the pile around the house and in the car, looking for quiet times when I can concentrate on reading a few pages.

The only reward that keeps me from despair are the life journeys I enjoy with tremendous people of faith and their wisdom and inspiration.  It is a conversation across the centuries with the man who began the monastic movement, with the young woman who teaches me to be content with my smallness, and with the man and woman who were each compelled to save one suffering person…and thus have saved thousands.

Not only the books, but the people who wrote them, inspire me.  And I want them to inspire others.

Unfortunately, books no longer reign supreme.  They share the stage with American Idol, News Action Alerts, the theater’s latest blockbuster, YouTube, Facebook…Twitter.  People who were once patient enough to read Moby Dick now want you to wrap up your point in 140 characters.  An entire civilization twitters back and forth over trivial pursuits.

Slowly, born of three separate plans, an idea germinated to bring order to my life.

Firstly, I pulled the plug…on the outside world.  On Sundays, I turned my back on the electronic universe…I-Phone, television, computers, and any other temptation that required a battery or an outlet.  Amazed at the time made available for other pursuits, beginning with my proverbial stack of three books, I luxuriated in silence and reading.

Secondly, I went on a diet…a book diet.  Inspired by a Carmelite nun, I quit buying books and gave attention to the treasures I already had.  This young nun, with all the quiet time in the world to read, had only six books on her shelf.  Six.  I scanned the titles on my shelf.  Did I really need to read them all?  If I had to choose six…could I choose six?  If not, I could certainly downsize.

Thirdly, I demanded more…of less.  Intent on making it through one book to get to the next, I was embarrassed that a week after finishing a book I loved, I was scarcely able to remember what I had read.  The words on the page went through my eyes, passing so quickly through my mind that they never had time to settle into my heart.  This was not the point of reading a book.  Especially wisdom books written by saints.

Three plans converged one day as I scribbled notes for remembrance from the book I was reading.  Fearing that all my good reading would result in forgetting what I read, I decided to become a serious student under the direction of this wise man.  I would slow down, contemplate the advice he offered in chapter one, and write a reflection on it.  Time didn’t matter.  It was no longer about getting to the end.  It was about gaining insight from him and applying it to my life.

I welcome you to join me.            

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Copyright 2017.  All Rights Reserved.

Quote:  Faith is the soul riding at anchor.  –Henry Wheeler Shaw (Josh Billings)

Pansies and petunias were in full bloom throughout the city.  In only one more month the hot Phoenix sun would burn them dry.  I was late.  I began work to restore my garden with only two weeks left in the prime spring season.  This was just the kind of urgency to show off my dual talents:  organization and perseverance.

I grabbed shovels and rakes just as the sun came up each morning and worked until the pink glow of sunset faded to gray.  Body muscles surprised by any kind of exercise at all retaliated with full-blown pain.  I burned them into submission under the pulsing heat of a hot shower each night.  

At the nursery, I avoided the final packs of pansies and sought out summer flowers and vegetables suitable for our six month dry sauna climate.  I knew I could catch up on the growing season if I checked the nursery each morning for new shipments, picking out tomato and pepper transplants four to six inches high, mature but not yet root bound in their tiny plastic pots.

I hunted down hidden shady spots for basil and cilantro seeds, hoping to coax out some late spring herbs.  With no time to spare, I planted all the yellow squash seeds in the packet.  Heaven knows, we didn’t need that many plants, but there was no time to replant if they didn’t sprout.  Best go for broke.

For ten days I planted seeds and flowers with great expectation. The smell of moist soil in the morning confirmed the success of repairs to our water system.  In the next week, I watered, paced, and surveyed my handiwork.  It felt good to invite visitors to walk through a garden of color and order.

Now came the hard part.  What talent I had for organizing and executing the Great Garden Recovery was equally matched by my greater weakness:  a short attention span.  Just as seeds sprouted and plants started to thrive, competing interests started working to pull me away from the garden.

Concerts, writers meetings, lunches with friends, books to read, stories to write, dinner to make, son’s trumpet lessons, shopping trips with daughter, e-mail…Moment by moment, day by day, I was tempted to turn my attention out of the garden and leave my precious plants to fend for themselves.  Meanwhile, in total dependence, the plants in my garden waited for me to guard their welfare with daily loyalty and care.  

I’m reminded of my debt to the Lord for his unswerving love and devotion.  Loyalty is the great protector of life.  God is loyal to us.  How I would wilt and fade if it weren’t for His ever-present love!

And what an honor it is to sing His praise each and every day!  Today’s song of love is not meant to last forever.  It is a renewable gift, received daily from God and owed back to him with loyal devotion.

Scripture:   My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music. Awake, my soul! Awake, harp and lyre! I will awaken the dawn.  I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations; I will sing of you among the peoples.  [Psa 57:7-9]

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Meditations:  In the Garden
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Copyright 2017.  All Rights Reserved.