Traveling inward

I'm at the end of the first half of Jan L. Richardson's self-directed retreat for a women's Christmas, The Map You Make Yourself - "Saint Catherine's Labyrinth."

At the end of the meditation, Jan asks, "When have words taken you on a journey - not into a physical space but into your own soul? What did you find there?"


O God, you are my God; eagerly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you,
as in a barren and dry land where there is no water.

Therefore I have gazed upon you in your holy place,
that I might behold your power and your glory...

My soul clings to you;
your right hand holds me fast
(Psalm 63:1-2, 8)

One thing have I asked of Adonai;
one thing I seek;
that I may dwell in the house of Adonai all the days of my life;

To behold the fair beauty of Adonai
and to seek him in his temple...

You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face,"
Your face, Adonai, will I seek.
(Psalm 27:5-6, 11)


I found in those words a desire to see the face of God, a desire to track God down, to find God in God's lair, even, and, even, drag God out by the throat and shake God, and ask, "What do you think you're doing down here? Don't you know these are people's lives you're playing with?!"

And, sometimes, the desire just to gaze on God's face. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Paradoxically, Richardson ends the meditation with this blessing:
"May you sink
the roots of your soul
deep and deeper still
into the love of God,
who encompasses and encircles you
without beginning, without end."



And so, God, I seek your face.
I have questions.
The answer to Job is no answer at all.
Why do you hide?
How do you hide,
encompassing me,
circling me,
right here before me,
behind me,
above, beneath,
to the side?
Ah, but then, every once in awhile,
there is the hawk.
(  (c)  Lois Keen, January 14, 2013)

I have found there, more. I have found that I see things others do not see, and where others do see, I see differently. I see connections between disparate things, thoughts, writings. I see poetry beyond words. I see words beyond sight or thought. And people have trouble understanding what I say.