Writings of a Beholder 🌿 10.27.23
Finding God in the familiar
Finding God in the Familiar
I heard it said once that the best part of leaving is returning home, and I can’t help but resonate with the truth of that statement this week.
After two weeks of traveling internationally to England and Scotland, my heart and body are happy to feel a bit grounded again now that we’ve returned. It was a gift to roam and wander and soak in the beauty of new cultures and places, but there’s nothing quite like home to make your soul feel at peace.
Traveling is an exciting, invigorating thing that forces you outside the familiar. It can lead to wonder and awe and a newfound sense of joy, and I’ve learned these past few years that it’s one of my favorite ways to encounter God. But I’ve also come to realize that traveling highlights my desire to be known, to belong, and to be rooted.
Traveling can make you hyperaware of how out of place you really are.
There’s a stronger sense of belonging here at home with my dogs and my candles and my own mugs of tea. I feel rooted amongst those whom I know and love and who know and love me. This trip reminded me of the blessings and comforts that truly are found in my real, everyday life. I beheld God on my travels in new ways, but my soul breathes deepest here at home, amongst the hidden magic of these mundane days.
It’s easy to lose sight of God’s glory in the things that feel familiar. I admit I often take for granted the small blessings and comforts that are meant to be gifts woven within each day. I wrestle at times with believing the lie that the grass just might be greener somewhere else, outside of what I know.
It’s a struggle sometimes, isn’t it? Believing that what’s in front of us just might be more than enough. That the people we do life with each day reflect the image of God in glorious ways or that our own beds inviting us to rest each night are just as sacred as cathedrals filled with stained glass windows and thousand-year-old pulpits.
Or that couches that hold those we love, kitchen tables that provide a place to belong and nourish our bodies, and the safe haven of a hot shower are all underrated, glory-filled gifts meant to be cherished.
Maybe there’s a way to not have to go away in order to give thanks for these gifts often missed in the familiar. Maybe we can hold out our hands each day as a way to pause, receive, and savor what’s been given.
Selah — a sacred pause; a moment of noticing and praising before moving on to what’s next.
Maybe this can become a way of life, a way of not only beholding God in what’s known but receiving the very presence of God within each moment — each small, familiar gift.
“The purest form of spirituality,” says Father Richard Rohr, “is to find God in what is right in front of us — the ability to accept what the French Jesuit and mystic Jean Pierre de Caussade called the sacrament of the present moment.”
Our homes can be an altar where Christ dwells if we’re willing to see where we are and what is known as the very place where His presence longs to be most.
Could we come to believe it? That this ordinary day is an opportunity to see just how close the presence of Love is? To taste it, savor it, receive it?
With each ‘hello’ to someone known, each meal prepared, each candle lit and table set and bed made, maybe just maybe we can glimpse eternity.
It’s good sometimes to stretch ourselves outside of what’s known and familiar and comfortable. But most of the time, the challenge lies in finding God and giving thanks for what sits right in front of us each day.
I look up from the page and notice our tree has turned a brilliant shade of deep crimson while we were away. I pause to give thanks, to receive the Presence within the present moment, and to let the beauty of something familiar wash through me, awakening a newfound praise within me.
Home is where the heart is, they say, and I would agree because home — where we find ourselves surrounded by what’s known — is where God reveals Himself most. It can also be the place where it’s easiest to let slip the everyday invitations to enter into the sacred.
So, may we not become desensitized to the gifts waiting to be unwrapped in our very homes amidst the very people we know and love.
May we remember that Love gives us a safe place to call Home and that each day can be an altar unto the Lord.
And may we come to believe that the fullness of God really can be found in the familiar.
Selah.
With you on the journey,
Celia
Life Lately
A Breath Prayer for Your Weekend
Inhale: Show me the wonders.
Exhale: Of Your faithful Love.
(adapted from Psalm 17:7)
*If you’d like to learn more about the practice of breath prayer, download this complete digital guide to practicing breath prayer.
Resources & Good Things to Pick Up
My Etsy shop, The Beholding Co., is officially up and running again! Purchase some breath prayer cards, a Lectio Divina bookmark, and more!
Grab a copy of my Bible study, You Are Beloved: a 21-day study on how to root your identity in the love of God, over on Amazon. If you’d like a free 3-day sample of the study, reply to this email and I’ll send it right over!
My friend and licensed spiritual director, Kari Bartkus, offers an 8-week journaling program for those who want to process their grief and trauma with God within the safety of blank journal pages. I’ve completed the program myself and can say confidently that it was incredibly impactful and healing: Journal Gently
An Invitation to Pause & Reflect
A regular practice of reflection helps us recognize what’s going on beneath the surface of our souls so we can name it in the Lord’s presence. Because as we learn to name what we feel, what we need, and what we long for, we’re also learning to discern the Spirit’s sweet, gentle voice within our hearts and lives.
Take a few moments today or this weekend to journal or contemplate with the Holy Spirit the following question(s) or prompt(s):
What are some everyday comforts that you could pause to savor and give thanks for today?
What gives you a sense of being home?
How might you cultivate a practice of finding God in the familiar?
A refreshing that also happens to bring a little restoring along with it...that's your writing. So glad to have a weekly dose.
Welcome home!