For an hour

I wish I knew just which direction my spirit was headed, but with the gentle help from some Sisters along the way, I at least know that it has some direction.

Before seminary I was completely oblivious to the world and realm of spiritual direction. My seminary promotes the idea of having a "spiritual friend." It seemed like a strange idea, and still feels strange to think about someone being my spiritual friend. But oh well.

It came as a great moment in my life when I took the plunge this summer and called the motherhouse of a local group of sisters and tentatively asked, "Do you have anyone who, um, does Spiritual Direction." I don't know what I thought -- I mean, I was nervous to place the call. I should have remembered -- hello, these women are typically nice folks.

And so I got connected with my most recent spiritual director. We met for the second time this morning and I'm a little bit in love.

For an hour or so I'm able to sit and be present with God in a way that doesn't happen for me anymore in worship. Or, at least it happens rarely. For an hour I'm not in charge of anything, I don't need to worry about a baby crying or a sermon that needs writing. For an hour I can sift through my own junk, hoping for some clarity about leadership or relationship with God. For that precious hour there's silence -- moments in which I first think, "Oh, what should I say?" and then I blissfully realize that I don't need to say anything.

The saddest part about this is that yesterday I wondered if I had time to make the appointment this morning. If it had been a parishioner, I would have questioned ruthlessly -- and maybe even chided: Of course you have time. If you don't take a single hour for yourself, once a month, what kind of worth are you assigning to yourself. But when it was me, I hemmed and hawed, wondering if I should try to reschedule. I didn't.

So, for an hour this morning I stepped away from the hum-hum-hum of my life and viewed it from afar, with the help of a wise woman. And that helped.