Revisiting My Digressions

To digress, says the dictionary, is to turn aside or wander from the main subject temporarily.

The Main Subject:  God.

Digression:  my distractions in the midst of prayer.  Do I turn aside from God?  No, not deliberately.  Do I wander from paying attention to Him?  That is a good question.  My will, in a time of prayer, may or may not stray.

My mind?  Now there's the great wanderer, the little nomad, the part that goes missing in action without so much as a fare-thee-well.  It can later be found in the most unlikely places, having chased every "wheeeeeeeeeeeee, let's follow this!" mental breeze.   

Temporarily is the final word in the dictionary definition.  This is a word that gives me hope.  My distractions are not a permanent condition.  It is only when I will not hope in GOD that I become hopeless .... and that, itself, can be a temporary state.  The instant I turn and place my hope in Him - that's the instant when hope is restored.  That is when God has the last word. 

Even when I ask forgiveness of sin, my repented-of failings are rendered "temporary."  Everything in this life will one day fall into that category.

Imagine being able to concentrate fully on the Main Subject, the one thing necessary.

Imagine dwelling eternally where all digressions have ceased.



This is a slightly edited repost from our archives. It is linked to Reconciled To You and Theology Is A Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.'  

© N Shuman.  
thecloisteredheart.org         


Painting; John Singer Sargent, Capri Girl on a Rooftop, detail

A More Useful Prayer

'Mental prayer is no less useful to us or less pleasing to God when we suffer many distractions. As a matter of fact, it could be more useful than if we had many consolations, because it means harder work for us. It suffices that we faithfully try to drive away the distractions, not allowing our spirit to dwell on them willingly.'

St. Francis de Sales






Painting: Peter Vilhelm Ilsted, in US public domain due to age

But I Digress

I haven't forgotten.  I know I promised to report back on seeking God ten times the more, and it has been a week now.  I wanted to wait until I felt I'd had some success.

Sigh. 

This is where it would be handy to have an emoticon for the word "sigh." Or a way to write it in wistful script, implying a breath of drawn-out longing:  in this case, a sighing for something that seems unattainable.   

But I digress.  Which is appropriate, as digressing is my problem.  To digress, says the dictionary, is to turn aside or wander from the main subject temporarily.

The Main Subject:  God.

Digression:  my distractions even in the midst of trying to turn "ten times the more" to Him.  Do I turn aside from God?  No, not deliberately.  Do I wander from paying attention to Him?  Now that is a good question.  My will, in a time of prayer, may or may not stray.  My mind?  Now there's the great wanderer, the little nomad, the part that goes missing in action without so much as a fare-thee-well.  It can later be found in the most unlikely places, having chased every "wheeeeeeeeeeeee, let's follow this!" mental breeze.   

Temporarily:  the last word in the dictionary definition.  This is a word that gives me hope.  My distractions are not a permanent condition.  It is only when I will not hope in GOD that I become hopeless .... and that, itself, can be a temporary state.  The instant I turn and place my hope in Him - that's the instant when hope is restored.  That is when God has the last word. 

Even when I ask forgiveness of sin, my repented-of failings are rendered "temporary."  Everything in this life will one day fall into that category.

Imagine being able to concentrate fully on the Main Subject, the one thing necessary.

Imagine dwelling eternally where all digressions have ceased.

Painting:  Elizabeth Adela Forbes, The Open Book
 
This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Linkup

Again I Begin

While praying recently for a fresh wind of prayer, I ran across the following.  I've edited it slightly, for I first scribbled this in a journal over twenty years ago.  Twenty years!  Before iPads, Kindles, Twitter, Pinterest, smart phones, dumb phones, texting, mobile apps.  Back then, people went to dinners disconnected, engaging in conversation with no concerns about a purse ringing just as salads arrived.   Yet even then, I was aware of how hard it was to tune in to the gentle presence of God.  

'We can hardly hear anything in this world of ceaseless distraction.  Our ancestors, even our recent ones, would be simply overwhelmed by the barrage of noises that surround us in this busy world, in this busy western world.  We are bombarded by entertainment, images, music, sounds, distractions we carry with us wherever we go. 

Perhaps we find our own thoughts too disturbing, so we drown them out with ceaseless chatter.  Maybe inactivity reminds us too clearly that we were created to fill our time with God, so we flee from the reminders by cramming our days full of mindless clutter

I know this because I am so this way, busily fluttering amid distractions that keep me blissfully unaware.

If only we could see it!  If only we could see the drama in which we're engaged!  If only we could peer, eyes unveiled, into the truth for just a minute.  I can't believe that such acute awareness would not utterly change our lives...'

Over twenty years later, I am still struggling to quiet down and 'listen.'  Funny.  I thought I'd be settled into a real routine by now.  Not so.

Perhaps because routine has never been easy for me?  Possibly.  Maybe because distractions are becoming daily more present and ever more convenient for all of us?  Surely.

And, if I'm honest, probably because some part of me would rather look at glitter than into scripture.  It's a tough thing to consider, an even tougher thing to admit.  But it is at least partially true.  After all, a bit of online glitz will not remind me that I need to take time to pray for situations on the world stage.  Or perhaps that I can even, if I give Him time and space, encounter the loving presence of God.

Encountering the Presence of God.  Imagine!  I can do this very thing in prayer, even in the silence of my heart.  I know how this works; I've done it for years:  I can sit down and pray, giving God time and space and attention.  I can take another look at Lectio Divina.

Why on earth am I waiting?  Maybe if I ask Him, and maybe if I sit long enough to hear His still, small Voice, Our Lord will answer this very question.

I pick up my Bible. I open it.

Again I begin.

All text in this post © 2013 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org      

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The Wall of Distractions

I'd like to come back to the subject of walls.  It seems we'd just made our way through the doors of one wall, then another...  when suddenly we were "walled in prayer" for those inside the Sistine Chapel.

The doors opened, our new Holy Father emerged, and we have all been getting to know him.  Like our Sisters and Brothers behind monastic walls, we've allowed ourselves the mid-Lenten fun of white smoke, pealing bells, joyful greetings, maybe a bit of online reading (I wonder how many times our new Holy Father's name has been "googled" in the last two days?), and distractions of a prayerful kind. 

Now maybe we're returning to normal routines, going about our day-to-day lives.  Which brings me right to the next wall that I (personally) encounter most frequently when I'm trying to move closer to God in prayer.

This wall has doors, and they're right in front of me.  All I have to do is open them, but you know, it's funny.  When I get to these doors, it's like I forget why I came here.  My prayer today provides solid evidence of this fact, and if you'll forgive me for putting it as follows, I prayed something not too different from this:

"I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be ever in my mailbox, which is where the book I ordered should arrive today, which is my goodness Friday already.  Oh, and I forgot to write down the time of the Easter lunch so I'd better go get my calendar while I'm thinking about it, and that reminds me, I need to call my friends and tell them the movie night needs to be rescheduled..."

I'd be willing to bet there are others out there who've had similar experiences. 

"Even our distractions can be helpful," writes Tim Gray, "as they show us what we're attached to and can signal subjects that we should submit to God." 

Lord God, thank You for showing me my attachments.  I ask you to continue shedding light on all that keeps me from moving forward in prayer.  Draw me on, in spite of and through the wall of distractions.  Help me remember that, on the other side of that wall, is a deeper encounter with YOU.

"Your Face is all lovely and Your Heart all inviting, but my thoughts alas! go wandering far from You.  Come, O God of my heart, gather together my scattered mental powers and fix them upon Yourself."  St. Gertrude

Text not in quotes © 2013 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org     

Painting: Théo Van Rysselberghe; Portret van Marguerite van Mons

This is part of a 'mini-series' of posts on walls. To continue in chronological order, click here.

and so I shall

God is worthy of praise, I wrote two days ago.   The Sisters who went on with prayer, unruffled by noise, have remained examples to me of how God can be praised in the midst of distractions.   

But boy oh boy.  How tough it can be.  I suppose no one reading this realizes that Advent can be a busy season (yes, I’m smiling as I write this).  There are plans to be made, cards to be written, gifts to be bought, and dozens of et-ceteras.

I spent today engrossed in the et-ceteras.  It wasn’t until tonight that I realized I’d been absolutely hammered by the THUDs.  All too often, the noises distracting my prayer are not coming from the outside.  They’re right here in my head.  They are “did you buy this?” and “you forgot that” and “you HAVE to deal with this issue right NOW” thud-thuddings.  At such times, I feel my mind has jammed up like mid-city traffic at rush hour. 

One thing that helps me in the midst of a day like this one is to offer prayer whenever it occurs to me that I haven’t been offering it.. After all, it is never too late to begin anew.

“Let your prayer be very simple.  For the tax collector and the prodigal son, just one word was enough to reconcile them with God.”  (St. John Climacus)

God is worthy of praise, whether my distractions come from outside or from inside.  If I haven’t spoken with Him in hours, I can do so at the very moment I think of it. 

And so I shall.

Text not in quotes © 2011 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org