Then one afternoon while traveling to meet with my team of doctors, I made my first stop at a nearby Monastery.
The unlikely pit stop turned out to be a quiet place where comfort hovered low to the earth. A silent voice unexpectedly spoke deep into my soul. "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." My tired, stressed muscles softened and relaxed.
After my first taste of the monastic atmosphere, I began to crave the peace that came from walking the grounds of the sacred space. I would walk and cry out to the Lord for answers. In the hallowed monastic cemetery I discovered a life size statue of Jesus on the cross, where I laid my heart at His feet. Winding my way inside and then out, I walked the Labyrinth, longing for His touch. I searched out every prayer garden on the grounds. At each site, I prayed, begging and pleading for God to rescue me.
One day, I got up enough courage to actually walk inside the monastery doors. As a non-Catholic, I wasn't sure how I would be received.
Opening the tall, heavy, wooden doors a petite, gray-haired woman quietly welcomed me.
"We've been seeing you walking around out there. I'm glad you came inside!"
I sheepishly asked, "Is it okay that I'm not Catholic?"
Grinning with a mouth deeply furrowed with years brimming with gentle smiles, my new friend replied, "As long as it is okay that I am."
She escorted me inside, giving me a tour. The sound of the creaking old wooden floor and smells of burned incense and rich, wood soap wrapped around me like a child's security blanket. I felt my stress relax away a bit more.
As thus began my love affair with monastic prayer life.
It is quiet, repetitive, and peaceful- deeply soothing to the soul. The ancient words and methods call out to a God who never changes, but is willing to change me.
In my upcoming books, you will find common threads-prayer, love and unity-woven in each story. Here is an excerpt from "Echo In The Veil-Dalhousie."
Ana heard the hum of distant conversation among the Laird’s servants, already busy at their morning’s work. The noise gently aroused her mind, reminding her that Mary, Queen of the Scotland would arrive today.
With a flutter in her
stomach, she eased out of bed and moved to the deeply padded chair by the
window. Lifting the book from the table, Ana caressed the fragile cover of her
tiny Psalter, a gift from Mam on her thirteenth birthday. Some of the illuminated pages were missing,
but even so, the cherished book held promising words that soothed her.
In generations past, her
family had practiced the Catholic faith.
However, when political and religious change swept over the lush green
Scottish lands, the Ramsays had declared their Protestant faith.
War’s constant groan
rumbled across her beloved land with many eager to shed the blood of others. It
distressed her. God was a God of love.
Ana believed that children of God should focus on what unifies rather
that what divides. She did not
understand the warring attitudes between the two religious groups. The Scottish people, whether Catholic or
Protestant, simply wanted to serve their Lord, Jesus Christ. She prayed daily that there might be a
peaceful reconciliation to the turmoil in her country. Jesus plainly commanded his people to love
God and love others. In Ana’s tender
mind, that seemed a simple task.
With the sprinkling of
ancient prayers and meditations, Ana found the family’s Catholic heritage a
blessed addition to her Protestant faith.
Praying the hours inspired her to seek a gentle, peaceful existence. Ana’s deepest desire was to listen to life,
hear its blessings, and respond with grace. She believed her God implored all
of mankind to live in peace, as much as they are able. A gentle life was not provoked by immediate
desperation but rather lived with a stilled, quiet gentleness, constantly listening
for the heartbeat of God, so that a response could be born of soft-hearted
compassion. Otherwise, a soul simply acted
out with indifferent cruelty, never having listened for the whispers of God.
Ana began the practice of
meditation and praying the hours as a young lass. Ana’s Mam believed it important to introduce
children to the discipline of silence early in their walks of
faith. Elizabeth accepted the
responsibility of teaching her children that the act of meditation was simple, but
not easy. It required disciplined
practice.
Each
day, Mam led the children to the small family chapel to practice the ancient
methods of prayer. As Ana reflected on the
experience, she could only imagine the difficulty her Mam had experienced,
lining up seven young children, marching as wee ducklings along the chapel path. With seven live births in thirteen short
years, Lady Elizabeth’s hands were busy and full, but she was never too busy
for prayer.
As
a young teen, Ana had complained, “I’m truly too busy to go to prayers today,
Mam.” Lady Elizabeth looked with
gentleness on her young daughter and replied, “When you are too busy to pray, you
must pray more.”
Lady
Elizabeth had not allowed chatter as they walked the chapel path each day. She required silence, enjoying the beauty of
the lush green Ramsay lands, preparing their minds for prayer.
After
the long walk, Elizabeth seated each child on a separate bench, knowing that seating
them together inspired chaos. She
explained each day what the goals were for praying and meditation.
“Be
still my loves. Breathe deeply. Our goal today is the same as every day. Be still, close your eyes, and be with God.”
After
a few moments, she would add, “If your mind begins to wander, as we know it
will, acknowledge the distraction by silently telling the distraction hello, then
goodbye.”
Ana
recalled days she was unable to pray.
Her young mind was easily distracted by the buzz of an insect trapped within
the chapel walls, Alex’s constant sniffling, or Aly dragging her feet across
the floor. Aloyasia was older and so her
legs longer. While Ana’s short legs dangled in the space above the floor, Aly
would swing her long legs and noisily scrape the ground with the toe of her
shoes.
Once,
on their return trip to the castle from the chapel, Ana confessed her inability
to concentrate during prayer that morning. She whined about all the things her brother
and sisters did to disrupt her silent time.
Lady
Elizabeth smiled down at her wee daughter and laughed, “You are concentrating
on your siblings more than God, my sweet lass.”
Ana
wrinkled up her nose with a sigh. Mam
continued, “As we learn to pray and meditate, it is our intent and practice
that gives God glory. He realizes we are
just people, and sometimes, even with our best efforts, we fail at our tasks.
Just keep trying, Lovey.”
Elizabeth
always thought Ana an old soul. She
thought and loved deeply, sacredly, even from a young age. One afternoon
while spinning wool, Ana dreamily mentioned, “Sometimes Mam, when I am
spinning, I imagine that God is sitting next to me. We don’t have to talk at all, we just sit
here as friends.”
“Amen,”
Elizabeth replied, wiping a tear that escaped from her eye.
On
the day of the Queen’s arrival, Ana anticipated the chaotic atmosphere of her
home. With the gift of spiritual
maturity, she determined she absolutely must settle her mind with quiet
stillness and pray, before her day began.
“O
Lord, open my lips. And my mouth will
proclaim your praise.”
She relaxed her mind
further, acknowledging the muted conversations outside her room. She breathed
in deeply, “Be…” She released her breath, expanding her chest, “Still…”
In silence, she allowed the ancient words to seep deeply into her soul. Then with a relaxed mind, she sat with her God, in peace.
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