Grace on the Road

“They are not poor that have little, but they that desire much. The richest man, whatever his lot, is the one who’s content with his lot.”

—Dutch proverb

This morning we were in Holland, Michigan. We spent a couple of hours at Windmill Island Garden, where the tulips were in full bloom.

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We toured De Zwaan windmill and learned not only about the history and mechanics of these amazing machines that date back to the twelfth century, but also about the ways in which windmills were the center of life for the communities in which they were located. Not only were windmills used to grind grain, pump water, and saw wood, they were also a primary means of communication. Events in the community could be announced by the position of the blades or by decorations placed on the blades. Trade that was fostered by the presence of the windmill built up the economy of the area and contributed to a healthy sense of community.

A quote from the short film about the windmill has been stirring in my heart all day. “With advances in technology we have a higher standard of living, but often a lower quality of life.” I’ve been pondering how this is so in my own life. One observation I’ve made is that, because so much is possible, I have a tendency to expect more than is realistic. If I am not careful, this tendency can quickly turn into discontent and grumbling.

John and I were discussing lessons learned on our trip while we were driving today. A big lesson for me has to do with the limitations that we all have. There is no person on earth for whom all things are possible. No one can see everything there is to see. No one gets more than 24 hours in a day. No one can be in more than one place at any one time. And, as my brother often says, “Just because something is possible, that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.” If we focus on what we cannot have or do or be, we will be perpetually unhappy. However…

Within the bounds of our limitations, there are great treasures to be uncovered. The beautiful Friesian horses we saw in Holland were limited by the fence around their paddock. But within the fence they galloped and pranced, the wind blowing through their manes.

The tulips need very specific temperature and light conditions to bloom, so can only bloom for a few brief weeks. But in that short time, oh, how they bloom!

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Today was a lesson for me in enjoying where I am, wherever that may be. It was a lesson in celebrating all the delightful experiences to be had within my limitations. It was a lesson in being content, exuberantly content, with my lot, and giving thanks.

“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

—Philippians 4:12-13

Today was basically just a really long day of traveling. I am so tired that my thoughts are rather scattered. I’m not sure I’m very coherent tonight. But I’ve been pondering…

We left Marion, Ohio early this morning in order to make it to Greensboro, North Carolina in time to meet with wonderful friends for dinner. It was, however, in many ways, the beginning of our homecoming.

When we crossed the Ohio River into West Virginia, there was a stirring in my soul. The landscape felt familiar. Although I’ve never lived in West Virginia, the mountains here have always felt very welcoming to me. Their ancient slopes are softened by the wear of years and their cover of hardwood forests, so different from the evergreen and snow covered peaks we saw in the West. I always feel the mountains are wrapping me in a hug in West Virginia.

The farms, with their mown fields and pastures, are very similar to where I grew up in central Kentucky. An ancient way of life is still lived here, little changed by the availability of modern technologies, slow and steady, moving in time with the seasons. I actually felt my breath coming easier as something within me relaxed.

The highlight of the day was dinner with some of my fellow Benedictines and their families. I am so blessed to have friends in many different communities. Our Benedictine community spans the globe and the centuries. Like the mountains of West Virginia, those who live monastic life in the Benedictine tradition have inherited a legacy that has been shaped and softened by the years.

Both the West Virginia mountains and monastic life have taught me that there is much wisdom in those things that have stood the test of time and been shaped by it. There is a strength and a solidity from which I can learn and by which I can be formed. It is a wonderful heritage I’ve been given by those who have gone before.

“Thus says the Lord:
‘Stand by the roads, and look,
and ask for the ancient paths,
where the good way is; and walk in it
and find rest for your souls.’”
—Jeremiah 6:16

“The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers and cities; but to know someone who thinks and feels with us, and who, though distant, is close to us in spirit, this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden.”

—Goethe

Over the last few weeks we have traveled almost coast to coast across the United States. We have seen spectacular mountains, crossed wide rivers, and explored a variety of cities. We have marveled at many aspects of creation and worshiped the One who created it all. But, for me, one of the most special aspects of our travels has been the people we have met.

Today we worshiped at Redeemer Anglican Church in Greensboro, North Carolina and participated in the consecration of St. Phocas Oratory.

We gathered with other members of my Benedictine order and their families as well as many parishioners from Redeemer Anglican for this special time of dedication, celebration, and thanksgiving.

I always enjoy worshiping with different communities. It gives me a deeper appreciation for the breadth of the body of Christ and for the range of expressions of adoration. Redeemer is becoming a special place for me as well because it is where the physical facilities for our dispersed order will be housed. The St. Phocas Oratory is just the first step in a much larger plan.

Most of the faces at Redeemer are still new to me. But by the end of the morning I felt that I had several new friends. I look forward to continuing to communicate with a few of them on a regular basis. And time with my Benedictine family is always special. We do connect via technology a few times each month. But relaxed, in person contact is rare and thus greatly treasured.

After a wonderful nap this afternoon, we finished off the day with dinner at a fabulous burger place in the company of another younger couple from Redeemer. One of the beautiful aspects of being a follower of Christ is that wherever we go, we have family. Dinner with Benjamin and Leah felt like dinner with family.

So was Goethe right? It seems to me that he may have been. The world is a beautiful place, a magnificent gift. And we are privileged to inhabit it. But the people… They may be the greatest gift of all, even the ones we find most challenging. It has been said, “One can acquire everything in solitude except character.” It is true that too much solitude can make one a bit self-centered, with tendencies toward intolerance. Incredible as they are, the mountains and rivers do not teach me to love, to give, to have compassion. I cannot have a relationship with a waterfall or a rainbow.

It was good to be with others today, to worship together, to celebrate together, to share our thoughts, our concerns, and our dreams. It was good to be in community with the people of God.

“The Lord God also said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone…’”
—Genesis 2:18

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity.”
—Psalm 133:1