The afternoon sun sent lengthening shadows from the greening trees of the park. A crow cawed loudly to its companion, waiting for the matching response. New leaves fluttered in the coolness of the breeze, welcomed after the heat of the day. Hummingbirds whirred in flower baskets, dipping happily into each full trumpet. Opened blossoms of daisies smiled out from bright centers, reflecting the orb of afternoon sun. Bright clouds moved by quickly, anticipating evening showers. All was well in God’s world. Watching in stillness from my patio, this was clear. Nothing was out of place. I was part this beauty too.

There was a time when I did not feel so connected to God’s world, when much was taken from me by illness. One day I sat praying in a quiet church for guidance. “What do you want me to do?” I asked. The unexpected answer came quietly within. “Be with Me.”

“But I want to do something!” I insisted. “Be with Me.” resounded again. Clarity did not come to me on that day. I still wanted things my way.

We seem to be always looking for answers on the outside. Our minds run after what we see and we want to possess those things or people that are comforting. Often, we look for God outside too. Sometimes he seems to be there but frequently we are left in disappointment. The feeling fades and we feel abandoned again.

The Bible says that we were created in the image of God, and that we are his child. So why does God seem far off at times? Saints tell us that God is close to us, closer than our breath. But why do we look so far away?

In the fourth century, early Christians felt this call to return to God. The small communities had evolved into active churches with defined prayers and masses, run by hierarchies of priests and bishops. The people of God began to feel more removed from Christ. Some retreated to the deserts of Egypt to renew the connection to Jesus, and closely follow gospel teachings. Among these men and women hermits began the early practices of Christian contemplative prayer and roots of Benedictine communities that formed our current monasteries. Through the middle ages, a division occurred between these monastic communities, the active structured churches and clergy, and the lay working people. Suddenly it seemed necessary to be educated in theology, a priest or member of a religious order to know Jesus. In 1964, Vatican II opened a section of revitalization called “the universal call to holiness” for all Christians. This meant that all priests, religious and laity were equally called to lead a holy life, and become disciples of Christ. This opened the door to an outpouring of new participation: retreats, bible study, church history, community gatherings for laity that had never been available before. Suddenly the whole richness of the history of the Christian church could be explored by anyone. In this arose the discovery of contemplative prayer that threaded through the whole history of the church back to the early desert hermits and Christian communities.

When Thomas Merton revitalized the interest in contemplative prayer in the 1950’s, he did so through the solid foundation of this history. He resurfaced the prayer of fire of John Cassian and the Jesus prayer of the eastern orthodox church. He never prescribed a formal practice himself, but felt that that image of God within would guide the way. But that relationship must be nurtured for it to grow.

One approach is to start the morning with some moments of silence, connecting with God before starting the day. Open to the presence of God with you, without judgment for success or failure, waiting on him. There is no right or wrong, for your heart knows the way, like a child easily playing at prayer. Give a short time every morning in quietness to this opening, relaxing into God’s presence. Allow God’s presence to wash over your body, awakening every cell, simply, without concern for results. This is God’s time, let him create it. If you want a more structured approach, you can look to some of the writings on centering prayer of Fr. Thomas Keating like the book “Open Mind, Open Heart”. Whatever way you choose, be simple, and consistent. Essentially Christian contemplative prayer is about opening oneself fully to God, and receiving from him. It is not about mind control, stopping thoughts or any other types of meditation. It is the simplest, most natural thing in the world, and it teaches us how to live from that place.

Our mind pulls us in a million directions. This brings us back to center. The center where God is already singing in us. With every breath, singing us into existence. With every breath, singing out the love that we are. Remember that original connection to God, the divine music playing in you. Our minds have become so noisy that we have forgotten to listen. We have become hypnotized by the world we see, and forgotten our connection to God. Allow yourself the time to be quiet with God. Like an innocent child, close to him, discovering him all over again. Let God do the prayer.

Hear the silence and remember, the silence of God’s image that dwells within you. When you find the image of God within, that image in which you were created, you never want to leave. But how can you leave who you are? God has you in his embrace for all eternity. Live from the security of that embrace, like a well-cared for child who ventures out on the playground unafraid. This prayer is not just a morning practice, but a way of living. Living from that connection to God instead of grasping at what we see. The silence grows within and you carry it with you. Living from inside out. Instead of from outside in.

Beyond the activity of the day, the movement of thought, God is always waiting for us to listen, to be still. Can we give him a moment to grow in our hearts? Be with me. Live with me, live from me. Each day, watering the image within. As it grows. From image to likeness… From image to likeness. Reflecting the sun at our source.

– Julia Gauvin