“Spiritual practices are threaded through our lives in
ordinary gestures.” This thought occurred to me as I stood at the door waving
goodbye when our son was pulling out of our driveway following a visit. I have
always made it a practice to do this as a way of extending my love and care to
family and friends – blessing their coming and going.
There is often a poignancy in waving goodbye. Sometimes it is just a “see you later” or “thanks for stopping by” wave, while other times it is with the knowledge that we might never see the person again – as it was with a friend of mine who died recently from cancer. I remember well the last hug and the last time I waved goodbye. As a spiritual practice, on the deepest level, mindfully and prayerfully waving goodbye reminds us that when we part, we place one another in God’s hands. We remember that our human relationships are connected with and through divine relationship.
Even the simple act of washing our kitten proved to be a spiritual act. A little homeless cat, whom we named Pudge, found his way to our doorstep and we took him in. A beautiful deep gray with white paws and a white ruff, he had a deep cough, insatiable appetite and broken tail. His fur was dry and bristly so I dipped a washcloth in warm water and gently washed him from head to foot. This translated to him as a maternal act of nurturance and even though he was timid, he followed me from room to room and curled up beside me with a look of devotion on his friendly face. I was reminded of times God has washed away my tears and treated me with the loving kindness I was extending to the lost and traumatized kitten.
Vigil Candle
As I have gotten older, I have come to view ordinary acts, practices or tasks I do as spiritual. By mindfully turning my mind and heart to God, I consciously seek to include God in all I do in a natural, relaxed manner that reflects divine companionship. For instance, for as long as I can remember, I have lit candles as a way of reminding me of God’s presence. While I light them as a way of celebrating or saying thanks for something wonderful that happened, most often, I light them for the intentions of others. In my website ministry, www.aplaceoflight.com this is my way of keeping vigil and waiting with someone who is hurting and asking for prayer.
This Vigil Candle ministry rose out of one of the darkest times in my life, when our beloved teenage son died by suicide in 1999. I was desperate for the light of hope and consolation and one week to the day that our son died, I made a Holy Hour. I wrote from that time: “I watched the clock, noting the time he had passed over – about 10:30. It was the most wrenching thing I’ve ever done, but I wanted to do it for our son’s sake and for my own. Even though I was trembling with grief, there was a gentleness that evolved through the relived horror as I tried to bring a mother’s love to Mic during the last hour of his life. I talked to him for two hours, said everything I needed to say from my heart, leaving nothing out. When I was done, I left candles burning the rest of the day, letting them usher in that illusive, flickering First Peace and the knowledge that God alone would be able to get us through this.
The spiritual practice of lighting a candle took on a whole new dimension that has become a cornerstone in my life in many ways. However, whether I am brushing my teeth, looking in a mirror, doing dishes, walking down to get the mail, putting out daily food for stray animals or meditating upon the rise and fall of my breath, to me, these are all ways that become sacred through living in communion with God. I see no separation or distinction between ordinary (seemingly mundane) acts of living – and purposeful, meaningful practices that invoke the holy – when all are done with God and in God.
Discussion Question:
• What are some spiritual practices in your life that have gone unrecognized?
Joni Woelfel is the author of The Edge of Greatness and A Party of One. Along with others, her work appears in the newly released book, Meditations for the Bereaved, edited by Judy Osgood, www.gilgal.com.