As we begin our Lenten journey towards the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ, it is a good time to be silent. The beauty of the Ash Wednesday Mass helps us to enjoy some quiet from our noisy days. Our church usually gives us a stripped down version of Mass with very little or no music. I love music and consider it prayer in another form but the simplicity of the Ash Wednesday Mass is enhanced, for me, by the quiet. Once you begin your Lenten journey, I encourage you to use St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. There are others as well but I find the Jesuit experience to be the best for me. The exercises are meant to be spent in silence. St. Ignatius used the silence and solitude of recovering from injuries to open himself fully to the Lord. It was in this time, that Ignatius developed the exercises which are still being used today. But just reading about the exercises is not going to do that much for you. Take the time to do the self examens each say. Review the things that occurred throughout your day and discern what was helpful and what was not. Focusing on eternal life during this examen can really help. Something that appears to be catastrophic during our day is quickly cut down to size when we focus on the eternal. Once you have examined your day in the context of what God is trying to use you for, you should then open your Bible. Now we Christians are not a people merely of the book but of the word. And that word is a living, breathing word that is opened to us by the Holy Spirit. Taking into account the times that the people of the Bible lived in helps us to understand the stories more clearly. If the word is incarnate and living, we must hear it in our times and apply it to our world. So I pray that your Lenten journey bring you closer to our God. I will close with a traditional Celtic prayer.
I weave a silence on my lips.
I weave a silence into my mind.
I weave a silence within my heart.
I close my ears to distractions.
I close my eyes to attentions.
I close my heart to temptations.
Calm me, O Lord, as you calmed the storm.
Still me, O Lord, and keep me from harm.
Let all the tumult within me cease.
Enfold me, O Lord, in your peace.
In the quiet, dusty corners of our hearts, we often harbor blueprint drafts of how we think our lives should unfold. We carefully map out our timelines, hoping for a smooth path, and it is only natural to feel a bit lost or weary when a sudden storm alters our course or a door we prayed would open remains closed. Yet, our Lord does not stand at a distance during these moments of uncertainty; He is a tender Shepherd who walks beside us, gently whispering, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope" ( Jeremiah 29:11). When our own plans crumble, it is not a sign that He has abandoned us, but rather an invitation to fold our hands, release our grip on the pen, and offer our own quiet fiat—letting Him guide us into green pastures we could never have found on our own. Placing our trust in His loving providence allows us to breathe deeply and find rest, even when the road ahead is shrouded in mist. E...