I remember my late twenties. I was grieving the ending of my marriage and was overwhelmed by a future so different than what I wanted or imagined, so I laid down on my bedroom floor and surrendered. The question that knocked me down was—"How do I move from this moment to the rest of my life?”

Where do we go from here? What is next? What are we supposed to do? I have heard these questions asked often over these last years as we pull ourselves and an injured world out of a pandemic that has taken a toll on physical, mental, and spiritual well-being. Add to that racial injustice, strained relationships, and many voices with strong opinions on how we should live. The church is not immune from the change, disruptions and competing voices. There is no going back to what was and it is impossible to see what will be. Where do we go from here?

In yoga, each practice ends in Savasana. A pose of laying down. After the movement, stretching and breathing there is a letting go. A relinquishing of control and struggle. It is in the surrender that we open ourselves to the present and to the future. We rest from having to figure everything out and are open to seeing the possibility, hope, and life already at hand.

We don’t often tell stories of letting go and yet, it is part of being human. In the space between stimulus and response, we are changed and given room to imagine a next step. As the church evolves, what would it look like to create space for the in-between, to develop practices to be still, to name that we cannot manage this life on our own, that we hurt and are hurt. And then in hope, trust how the Holy Spirit will find us, gather us and create a way forward.

At some point as I laid on my bedroom floor so many years ago, I felt the sun streaming through the window warming my body, awaking me to get up and take a next step. This light found me and came without having to ask for it.

In all the flurry to do, to be right and to figure out what comes next, what if we regularly surrendered to fill our human lungs with divine breath, trusting that this time of stillness will guide us ahead?

What is your practice of stillness?

pastor beth