Ok, here’s something that’s been weighing on my heart lately

Do you ever find yourself doing holy or spiritual things….and yet somehow have never felt FURTHER from God? Yes? Well that’s been my spiritual life lately.

I’m great at cranking out rosaries, listening to Catholic podcasts, reading awesome literature by all my favorite holy dead guys.

But I had a sudden and profound realization the other day. I had just hiked to the tippy top of a mountain where the earth suddenly became silent. That’s what I love about mountains. The tops have the strangest silence and stillness to them, one that can’t really be found on the ground. I now better understand that cool guy Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati and his whole deal with mountain climbing!

Anyways! At the top of that mountain I realized that it had been quite a while since I just sat still…in silence.

I’ve been so accustomed to surrounding myself with activity and noise (holy
noise…mind you) that I couldn’t remember the last time I sat still and stood
silently before God.

How was I supposed to ever hear God and feel close to Him when I didn’t take time to listen to Him?

St. Isaac the Syrian once said “The highest form of prayer is to stand silently in awe before God.”

Growing up my best friend and I would always comment on how we loved the fact that we’d reached a point in our friendship where we could very comfortably sit together in silence. We enjoyed each other’s company so supremely that words were not necessary. I think this is the ultimate goal for any relationship. Why not more so with our Creator?

I think it can become such a temptation to feel like we need to do more, say more prayers, do all the classic Catholic things. I’m not saying don’t do them! But I firmly believe first and foremost we need to sit in silence before our God.

Go to Eucharistic Adoration if you can (or go climb a mountain)!

Sit before Jesus.

Don’t bring a bible, journal, or rosary….just sit and be still.

I don’t think our small human minds can even being to comprehend how badly He aches to just be with us.

Pax, Gabi