Thick, puffy, white clouds fill the air, blue sky peeks out, making the view above swamplike.
I woke up early this morning with a squirrel on my deck, and a chipmunk running around on the woodpile. Such a way to wake up. Inspiring.
It is the case that the spiritual life has rhythms and cycles. There are ups and downs, dry moments and constant rain. Sometimes the drought lasts for years.. but in an instant all changes. Sometimes, nothing changes and yet we are called to make do with what we have, irrigating ourselves what the clouds do not deliver.
For the last two months or so I’ve been in a slump. Productive in a way, I suppose, but spiritually devoid. My situation encourages but doesn not demand a deep spirituality, and so I have slacked, or drifted, or lost touch.
My discipline has slipped, my heart has wandered, and I seek to assert myself in various ways.
This week there has been a change. Not in me, and that’s the problem. God is calling, and so far I’ve let it ring without picking up, distracting myself with artificial interests.
He called again last night, keeping me up, letting difficult thoughts fill my entire being, making me wrestle with who I am, where I am at, who I want to be, and why I am not.
I’ve lost the rhythm of a spiritual life, and fallen away in spirit if not in mind.
So, I need to wrestle with this a bit, come to some sort of response, re-evaluate and retune my inner self, so as to meet the call for what it is.
Everything else takes a backseat to this. It is what my soul demands and will not relent until I pay proper heed.
Writing doesn’t clear anything up, indeed it exacerbates the problem as a form of self-assertion, as a way of doing a duty to another cause, as a way of excusing my lack of devotion.
I’m going to read today, I’m going to pray today, and see what comes of it all. May there be light, and may dawn finally come.