“Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.”—Isaiah 43: 18–19
No! I’m not sure I can perceive it. I want to recognize the new thing; I keep looking. I can hear words that yearn, as mine do, for a new way; I’m not so sure I am able to step into the new way myself nor recognize it in others. Maybe the mere shifts I’ve noticed in myself—the consciousness about driving somewhere, the deliberate relaxing into a slower routine because of staying at home, the longer intentional listening on a Zoom meeting rather than having to make my thought voiced, the deeper gratitude throughout my body, recognizing the ongoing Earth patterns that provide a security, the aching compassion for those experiencing unexpected grief, and others. The very observation that I am now aware of these shifts has increased my consciousness enough that I can at least name the shifts, so is this enough to shift my actions, to shift my daily life in order to follow God’s call to a new thing? Am I too set in my ways, too old, to change? Am I too comfortable to deliberately move into the new?
I have found over these past weeks that I probably am too comfortable to make the shifts on my own. I have discovered how much I need others willing to be my friend despite the awkwardness and whining involved in moving out of comfort into the unknown. Friends willing to listen to my deep yearning and willing to share their own deep yearnings with me. Friends also willing to move into the new so that together we experience a newer, more fulfilled relationship with God through each other. I have discovered through conversations that I really can call on the inner Spirit, and that I often hear Spirit through others as well as through quiet. Maybe this “stay at home” experience is creating a process within me that will lead to the recognition and acceptance of a new thing. Maybe there is a courage to step into the new growing, and maybe this is all a part of the new thing.
—Ellen Bruckner, Prairiewoods friend & program facilitator