1 Kings 19:11-13

I've written blogs in the past, but usually I don't find myself completely at a loss for topics right at the start.  But, that's what happened this time around.  I set up the blog (easy) and wrote my introduction post (also fairly easy), but when the time came to write about something besides myself, I developed a terrible case of writer's block.  Fortunately, at mass today, things all sort of fell into place and I found my topic.

Today's first reading at mass just happened to be one of my all-time favorites: 1 Kings 19:11-13:  

The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”
Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.

 I've loved this verse since the first time I heard it, but it really became important to be about a year or so ago.  I was a senior in college and going on a retreat that I did not want to attend.  I'm not going to go into too much detail about it here, but for a while, my relationship with God was a bit strained.  And when this retreat came up, I didn't want to go.  But, circumstances sort of worked out in such a way that before I knew what happened, I had been given the coveted last spot on the trip, and was going to be spending a weekend with the Sisters of the Humility of Mary, praying and contemplating.

As I said, circumstances worked out in such a way that I ended up on this retreat.  And I have no doubt in my mind that it was the hand of God which got me there.  Looking back, I know in my heart that God wanted me to come and spend a weekend with Him.  In spite of myself, I found so much healing that weekend.  It really was a retreat that changed my life.

Towards the end of the retreat, I joined a session to go and pray with the labyrinth, a very old an beautiful prayer where you walk around the twisting and winding path of the labyrinth, patterned on the floor.

This is one of my favorite forms of prayer, and I don't get to do it nearly as much as I would like.  At the start of the labyrinth, you keep a thought in your head, sort of like a prayer.  Perhaps it's something like "Which college should I attend?" or "Should I apply for that promotion at work?"  (For me, the focus was about a guy I was seeing at the time.  We were very much infatuated with each other, but we had a lot of issues in our relationship, and I wanted to know what to do about it.)  By the time you reach the center of the maze, the answer is supposed to come to you.  And on your winding way back out, you contemplate the answer you have received, before sitting again in quiet prayer.

I had been walking to the labyrinth, which was out in a field, and my thoughts were confused and frustrated.  As I said before, I had no doubts that God wanted me on this retreat, but I could not understand why I was not getting the Big Answer.  I had been expecting enlightenment, something hitting me like lightning or fireworks.  I had been half expecting the voice in the clouds saying "Little Sister, I have called you here because ________."  But, all I had was silence.  That's when it hit me.

 

I had been looking for the Lord to come to me in the guise of fire; or an earthquake; or a great, driving wind.  And I had been disappointed.  But, then, in that moment, I heard His voice as a little whisper in my heart, a realization that left me trembling about close to tears.  I had been quoting that verse all weekend, since it came up in one of my reflections.  And yet, it took me until that moment to realize that all this time, God was talking to me, but I just didn't hear him because I was expecting something bigger and grander.  It was a very humbling and powerful experience.  And as I listened to this reading at mass today, I found myself filled with that same humbling sense of awe.