I walked along the lake shore, found a tree that was easy to climb, and nestled myself in the crook of the lowest branch propping my legs onto the branch and leaning against the trunk. I watched the waves pushed by the wind onto the shore and thought of Spirit as the eternal wind that hovered over the waters of creation – ruach (רוּחַ).
Earlier, a classmate mentioned how the waves driven by the wind slowly change the shoreline over time. I thought about how we can change our world by allowing the Spirit to move us and recalled the hymn, Spirit of the Living God. I closed my eyes and began to sing/pray:
“Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me . . . melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.”
As I continued to pray, the wind increased into powerful gusts that shook the branch on which I sat. I opened my arms for balance and continued with eyes closed, awed by the power of the wind and a bit fearful that it would dislodge me from my perch. In this position I experienced the awe and wonder that I had often longed for in my own prayer life.
Reflecting on the experience over the past week, I realized that the sense of awe (and a bit of fear) that I experienced as the wind shook my tree was enhanced by the fact that I did not hold on to the branch. Perhaps, when we refrain from clinging too tightly to the branches of our own faith traditions, we may more readily expose ourselves to a renewed sense of awe and wonder in prayer. The deep roots kept my tree firmly planted and kept me from falling. Likewise, the deep roots of our own faith traditions can anchor and embolden us to open our arms to embrace other traditions and prayer practices, both past and present.