Reflections of a Spiritual Director
Dahlias from our front yard
I’ve never been much of a gardener. Growing things hasn’t come so naturally to me, but this year, that changed. We’ve taken on some landscaping projects at our new house, and we (really, my lovely in-laws and husband) built a flower garden in our front yard. I took great joy in picking out the flowers for this little garden box: beautiful pink and white dahlias, bright pink geraniums, blue and lavender hydrangeas, and, of course, some marigolds to keep the deer from nibbling off every bloom. I also saw the most lovely royal blue delphiniums at Home Depot but decided not to get them. The next day, my mother-in-law went back and bought us both a few, she loved them so much. Sadly, though, the delphiniums lost their luster rather quickly. Within a few days, they drooped, dried out, and lost every blossom. I still haven’t figured out what happened – did I not water them enough? Water them too much? Are they getting too much sun? Too much shade? Did they not like the soil? Are they not Colorado-friendly flowers? Whatever the reason, they still offered a few days of beauty.
Tending to living things is a mystery sometimes (especially for someone like me, who admittedly lacks a green thumb!). Some friends back in California describe spiritual direction as soul tending, a place to hold the question, “how is it with my soul?” It’s a place and time to be attentive to things that are growing, stirring, aching for attention. Things that may need to be brought into the light. Things that may need to be released.
But it’s all done in a posture of mystery, discovery, curiosity. Where is God in this particular experience, moment, doubt, belief, emotion, question, pain, or longing? What is he speaking to you? What do you wish he was saying to you? How might you become more aware of his invitation to me through it?
Even after several years of holding these questions alongside my directees, I never tire of watching them discover a sense of God’s presence and voice. To be trusted to hold their stories, with all their complexities and mysteries, is no small thing. It invites me to stay tender, to stay open, to maintain a holy curiosity of my own. God’s movement in another person’s life is a wondrous thing to behold. When I get the honor of catching even a glimpse of them discovering their own belovedness and his faithfulness, I know I’m on sacred ground. There is nothing like it.
Not every session with each directee contains a palpable moment of discovery; some are simply a space for them to be listened to for an hour. Some end with more questions than answers. Some stir deep questions within me. But every time, I walk away grateful to have had a chance to witness the story of God in another person’s life.
I may not be an expert at tending to a garden, but I love being a soul tender. I am immensely grateful that I am given the gift of tending to the souls that God has placed in my path. To all my directees, thanks for letting me be a small part in your expanding journeys with Jesus. May you continue to wander and wonder in the love of God.