Spiritual Nourishment, Thursday's Reflection

The wild rice and cranberry bread from The Rustic Inn on Lake

Superior's North Shore nourishes me. I brought back home two hunky loaves from my recent writing retreat. The other night we had lentil soup, fresh raspberries, and grilled cheese sandwiches made with that delicious bread. Nourishing!

At a time when there is so much to worry us, so much that depletes us, it is good to think about what nourishes us. Good hearty bread and soup, yes, but what else? 

One of the books I am reading right now during morning devotion time is Joan Chittister's The Art of Life. Monastic Wisdom for Everyday. Each of the chapters is devotions for a specific month of the year and the theme for March is nourishment. 

              The daily schedule nourishes me; the sight of
               the familiar nourishes me; the silence nourishes
               me. The banter of friends and the rhythm of prayer;
               the best of music and the single shaft of promise 
               every new day brings, provide the kind of balm 
               no boughten balm can bring.  p. 26

What nourishes me? A list --in no specific order. 
*   Books, of course, and making time to read.
*   Sitting at my desk and digging into a current writing project.
*   Gathering around the dining room table with our two potluck groups--ah, the below the surface conversations, but the laughter, too. 
*    Sunday morning services--singing the hymns, sharing the peace (We use sign language now.), receiving communion, praying, listening to the always enriching sermons, greeting new friends, old friends, and those I don't yet know. 
*    Driving in the country, looking for eagles. 
*    Morning devotion time, sitting in silence. Breathing slowly and steadily as I hold in my heart all on my ever-growing prayer list. 
*    Enjoying a water view--big water, like Lake Superior.
*    Being with our kids and grandkids, feeling part of this ongoing circle.
*    Meeting with my writing groups, sharing our process, our frustrations and our hopes, and offering our insights and questions.
*    Hometending (Most of the time!), especially when I shift from one season to another.
*    Sitting with my spiritual directees--each of them a gift.

And so much more.

Creating this list nourishes me --open me to deep gratitude.

            Never take anything for granted--the people
            you associate with, the things you choose to do in 
            your free time, the television programs you watch.
            Everything touches us, shapes us, nourishes the
            thoughts we think. All of them are making us more
            or less what we are meant to be. p. 29

At first glance, it may seem that nourishing oneself is self-indulgent. I hope we understand by these later years of life that nourishing ourselves not only allows us to nourish others, but the very fact of paying attention to how we are spiritually filled radiates a kind of light in the world. And we all need more light. 

I depend on your light, and in turn I hope my light nourishes you. 

               Spiritual nourishment is anything that fills us with 
               a sense of the fundamental goodness of life, the
               clear and constant gifting of God. p. 30

An Invitation
What nourishes you? I would love to know. 


NOTE: You are invited to attend an interfaith book discussion at my congregation, Gloria Dei Lutheran Church St Paul, on Monday, March 23 from 7-9. I will be leading the discussion on a courageous and generous memoir by Jose Antonio Vargas, Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen. Vargas explores the psychological state of homelessness experienced by undocumented immigrants living in America. All are welcome.


Two other congregations in St Paul have also scheduled discussions of this book.
        Unity Church, Unitarian,Wednesday March 18, 5:45 pm dinner and conversation beginning at 7:15 pm.
        Mt Zion Temple Sunday, March 22, 1-3 pm.
If these offerings are cancelled, I will announce that.