The Abbey Labyrinth Monthly Reflection: Storms

By Janet Davis

Next In-person walk: Saturday, June 14, 9-10 a.m,
Covenant Presbyterian Church back parking lot, 2222 at Mo-Pac, Austin
Next Zoom discussion:  Saturday, June 14, 2025, 10:30 a.m. Central Time (US and Canada)

Walk In: Losing Our Lives by Choosing to Be With the Storm

I cannot claim
to still the storm
that has seized you,
cannot calm
the waves that wash
through your soul,
that break against
your fierce and
aching heart.

But I will wade
into these waters,
will stand with you
in this storm,
will say peace to you
in the waves,
peace to you
in the winds,
peace to you
in every moment
that finds you still
within the storm.

Jan Richardson

Questions

What storm is the Spirit inviting you to be with this day? This week? It might be one that rages within or without.

What might it look like to be with the storm, to accept it with curiosity and respect rather than simply try to solve, escape, diminish, or avoid it?

Center: Meeting Hope Within the Storm

Hope’s home is at the innermost point in us, and in all things. It is a quality of aliveness. It does not come at the end, as the feeling that results from a happy outcome. Rather, it lies at the beginning, as a pulse of truth that sends us forth. When our innermost being is attuned to this pulse it will send us forth in hope, regardless of the physical circumstances of our lives. Hope fills us with the strength to stay present, to abide in the flow of the Mercy no matter what outer storms assail us. It is entered always and only through surrender; that is, through the willingness to let go of everything we are presently clinging to. And yet when we enter it, it enters us and fills us with its own life—a quiet strength beyond anything we have ever known.

Cynthia Borgeault, Mystical Hope (Cowley Publications: 2001)

Questions

It is interesting to me that spring is often both the season of new life and big storms.

What new life around you seems to be accompanied by a storm?

Can you identify the pulse of life that is Hope in your innermost core, deeper than any storm (real or imagined)?  How does that pulse meet or speak to the storm? Can you find the flow of Mercy within the storm?

Walk Out: Saving Our Lives by Walking Toward the Storm

You are not surprised at the force of the storm— you have seen it growing. The trees flee. Their flight sets the boulevards streaming. And you know: he whom they flee is the one you move toward. All your senses sing him, as you stand at the window.  The weeks stood still in summer. The trees’ blood rose. Now you feel it wants to sink back into the source of everything. You thought you could trust that power when you plucked the fruit: now it becomes a riddle again and you again a stranger.  Summer was like your house: you know where each thing stood. Now you must go out into your heart as onto a vast plain. Now the immense loneliness begins.  The days go numb, the wind sucks the world from your senses like withered leaves.  Through the empty branches the sky remains. It is what you have. Be earth now, and evensong. Be the ground lying under that sky. Be modest now, like a thing ripened until it is real, so that he who began it all can feel you when he reaches for you. 

Book of Hours, II 1, Rainer Maria Rilke

Questions

Do you know God as storm? When have you found yourself walking toward the One from whom others flee? How have those experiences made life a riddle or God a stranger?

Do any words above describe this season of your life?

What would it look like in your life to be the ground beneath the sky, to be modest and able to be felt, to be more aware/welcoming of your being as incarnate?