Yesterday I did very little, there were no great insights. Rather I spent some time looking around my surroundings asking what I might have to offer this place – because one cannot receive such gifts as this place offers without wanting to be able to give back, to share a little of what I have (which at the moment does not seem like a lot). Actually I felt a little ‘dry’ all day – not on the outside but on the inside. There were no great and beautiful prayers penned or even thought of. No visions from God, and no feelings of goodness or holiness, no piety. The oasis that I mentioned yesterday morning seems to have dried up. No there was none of that – I felt dry inside of myself, arid and strangely I want to say empty – there was nothing there. That sort of saddens me because I sit here in the beautiful place with water in front of me and trees all around. There is a breeze from the water and the leaves move and seem almost to dance to an unheard tune that gets caught up in the branches as they gently sway. I thank God for such beauty and wonder why I feel nothing of it inside of me.
I sit silently waiting for the emptiness to be filled by an Other, for I can do nothing to fill it on my own. It will perhaps become fuller when I am able to enter into God’s presence in a deeper way. I don’t know how to do that and suspect that I wait for that moment , for God to pull me in with a breath – a breath that only the Spirit can cause to be.
So I sit waiting, just as I slept last night in the sleep of one who waits. Dreamless. And that small little hope of expectations of something grand and glorious to come sits back against the dry wall of my heart, quietly waiting to be released.
I sit waiting with no place to hide, waiting like an empty urn to be filled and poured out. Perhaps today.