Light My Fire

One of the reasons this blog was helpful to me during Lent was that I committed to posting every day. The posts were almost always reflections on the readings of the day, so that meant I was reading scripture every day. I forced myself to think about these words, what the message behind them might be, and what they meant to me and my spiritual journey. The discipline of daily reflection gave me a sense of momentum in my prayer life.

Since Easter, I relaxed the effort. I decided only to post a few days a week, and I got a friend involved to share the load. (And also because she is a brilliant and thoughtful, with a rich spiritual life.) That didn't mean I wouldn't read and reflect everyday, I told myself. I just wouldn't need to spend the time to put my thoughts on a page (sometimes sacrificing sleep or time with my husband in the evening). I'd have a little more freedom.

Well, it turns out that without the daily discipline of writing, I haven't kept up with the reading, or the prayer. And not surprisingly, something is missing. I find myself impatient, frustrated, and even a little bored. I don't think it's an accident that this rut coincides with my lack of prayer and spiritual exploration.

So I go back on the wagon. No, I still won't post every day, but I will take time each day to read and reflect. Tonight I turned to the readings and found in Exodus the story of Moses and the burning bush. These lines, in particular, jumped out:

As he looked on, he was surprised to see that the bush,
though on fire, was not consumed.

A couple of thoughts occur to me. One is that even during times of crisis throughout my life, I haven't been destroyed, and my faith has been a big part of that survival. But looking at it another way, I think about the "fire" I have felt at various times as I searched for meaning and for guidance in living the best life I can. Sometimes, like when I was blogging every day, I have felt somewhat consumed—deeply committed and singularly focused. Being consumed didn't seem so bad in that case. How can I get a piece of that back?

Most of us don't get signs and wonders like Moses did—God speaking to him through a fiery shrub. Sometimes we have to be our own burning bush, and steer ourselves toward the course that brings us the most life.

Moses was called to lead his people to freedom. I have to remember that, sometimes, freedom is born out of discipline, and hard work and sacrifice often inspire the greatest happiness.