Spirituality as We Age: Thursday's Reflection

I welcome these dark November mornings, for they seem to give me permission to spend even more time in quiet devotion and meditation. I dress and move into the day later and later. In fact, my husband and I have joked that some day we will still be in  our pajamas and it will be time to go to bed again. 

Spending more of my time in prayer and devotion is not just because daylight takes longer to appear, however. Another reason, I think, is that I am drawn to enter what Dr. Jane Marie Thibault calls "Aging as a natural monastery." 

I was reminded of this term when my father, who is 94, and in very good health, outlined his daily spiritual practices to me. Much of his day, even the majority of his day, is spent praying and reading devotional material. Some of the books he uses he has read over and over again, continuing to find meaning in them. Like a monk, he starts his day in prayer; he ends his day in prayer, and in-between he reflects on his relationship with God and what he is still invited to learn. He reads two pages of Luther's Catechism every day. He reads passages in my mother's Bible, passages she underlined, and he says they are reading them together. He reviews and reflects on his day, a form of examen in the spirit of Ignatian spirituality. 

After a long and successful career in the business world, my father's life has shifted from the external to the internal. He has become a contemplative, giving and responding to the world in new ways. 

Many years ago I remember sitting by the bedside of a woman who had been extremely active in her congregation. She was the epitome of a church lady--always ready and willing to meet any need. Everyone knew they could count on her, but now confined to her hospice bed she felt useless. Without purpose or meaning. I asked her about the people she loved and about the issues in the world that concerned her and in the process we realized we were praying. I suggested this could be a time of unceasing prayer for her.  Because of her own faith and her deep love, she opened to that new purpose and spent most of her last days in prayer. 

I have an active life and love the various activities that give my life purpose and meaning, but more and more I feel the pull to sit in silence and open my heart to and for the world. Heaven knows, there is much that needs prayer. 

I suspect I am preparing for my own monastery time --if I should be fortunate to live into old age (older age, that is!). As long as I have cozy pajamas, I will be content. 

An Invitation

What have you noticed about the role of prayer and contemplation in your life? I would love to know.