Keeping pace with God…?

Before the summer I was fortunate to be able to take a sabbatical. I didn’t have a particular project

to complete or any grand travel plans – rather this was a time to s l o w d o w n . . . and be able

to say yes to some of the things that give me life. So it was that I caught up with family and friends,

went to look at some interesting art and architecture, spent time on a recently acquired allotment,

read a couple of books and listened to a few interesting podcasts.

Perhaps inevitably, there was opportunity to reflect on how we so easily fill our days full when

there is lots to do… and on how it is sometimes difficult to remember what on earth we did with

time that didn’t need to be filled. What did I do on my sabbatical? Do I have much ‘to show’ for it?

Sometimes I’m not sure…!

Having had some time to reflect I am drawn back to this prayer of Mother Julian of Norwich which I

discovered while I was on leave:

Lord, let not our souls be busy inns that have no room for thee or thine,

But quiet homes of prayer and praise, where thou mayest find fit company,

Where the needful cares of life are wisely ordered and put away,

And wide, sweet spaces kept for thee; where holy thoughts pass up and down,

And fervent longings watch and wait thy coming.

I wonder whether God, in God’s great mercy, has been making a wider, sweeter space in my

heart, where holy thoughts can pass up and down and fervent longings can watch and wait God’s

coming.

It occurs to me that these are fitting words as we approach Advent.

We pray ‘Come, Lord Jesus’ with expectation, but sometimes it feels like we are kept waiting. Do we want it enough? Are we fervent enough in our longing?

Community organisers I meet often reflect on the tension between a deep desire to see necessary

change and a simultaneous awareness that any lasting structural change takes a long time to win.

Relational power is not built in a day.

St Paul urges us to ‘keep in step with the Spirit’. This instinctively makes me feel like I need to

keep up, as if I am in perpetual danger of lagging too far behind.

One of the books I read while on leave was Benjamin Aldous’ ‘The God Who Walks Slowly’. It’s

shaped around reflections of the twentieth century Japanese theologian Kosuke Koyama on the

‘Three Mile-an-Hour God’. Perhaps the challenge is rather for us not to run off ahead. To slow

down and stay attentive to the things of God happening around us, and to guard against the

temptation to try and finish first, whatever the cost, rather than last the course and savour the

journey.

May we have the courage to walk more slowly and may our souls become true homes of prayer

and praise where God may find fit company.

Catherine