Living Intentionally

By Susan Spear

During this time of Safer at Home, my mind wanders back to the summer of 2015 when Bruce and I made a silent retreat with the Sisters of Saint Joseph in an old, creaky beach house on Cape May, New Jersey. I had a room in the house with the sisters, and Bruce had a room in a smaller house across the street with a Catholic priest and a deacon. Conversation was prohibited, even during meals. The daily schedule included mass, meals, and a meeting with a spiritual director. Every morning, my spiritual guide gently asked: “What has Jesus been saying to you?”

If this sounds boring, I assure you it was not. I spent the week reading the Gospels, walking the beach before it grew too hot, reading poetry books, and writing in my journal. I found my senses more in touch with the natural world: wondering which bird made which sound; listening to the various sounds of waves, bicycle bells, and footsteps; truly tasting the crumbs of bread during the Eucharist; feeling the humidity of the East Coast – the list goes on and on.

During this pandemic, I still communicate, do chores, and work. And yet, I can still live intentionally, always asking myself “What has Jesus been saying to you?” I offer you this poem I wrote in July of 2015.

 

St. Mary by the Sea, Cape May, NJ

Ordinary Time

Sing, Muse,

in common time

on the upbeat

of the sun

Cry, this morning’s

mourning dove

Chant, mossy

onyx rocks

Seek, osprey,

swoop and prey

Fling, red-

winged blackbird,

melodies

between the green

Squeak, smooth

pinewood floors

Crash, waves,

erase my traces

Croak, frogs

an evensong

Sink, ancient

orange one

into the blue,

blackening sea

Echo, my soul’s

ceaseless grief

Come, Holy

Ghost, come

in common places

Prove to me

your extraord-

inary graces.

by Susan Delaney Spear

courtesy of the Anglican Theological Review

 

Photo by Bruce Spear