Last week a 45-year-old pecan tree came down (thanks to Greg and crew) in order to open the space for a retreat house to be built. The tree sprouted as a volunteer seedling some 45 years ago, only a few feet from the dirt-floor shed that was our original garage in the mid-fifties. It was too close to the building, of course, but had a nice straight trunk, and so it was left to grow… and grow…and grow. By now it towered over the shed and a nearby utility pole supporting electrical lines.
The site of the old garage is reserved for construction of the shepherdess retreat house. That space, then, had to be opened up. A volunteer demolition crew began deconstruction of the old garage in May of this year, taking it as far as they could. (thanks to Stacey, Aiden, Silas, and Jolle.) What remains is the frame and most of the corrugated metal roof, which will serve this winter as a shelter for the reclaimed wood, to be repurposed in the interior of the retreat house. A sawyer will be milling a mantle for the retreat house fireplace from a log we reserved from the old pecan tree (thanks to Dave).
As a general rule, this is the story of life. Often, something has to be cleared in order to open up space for what’s new. Or we might say it another way: Often, when something valuable is lost, another thing of surprising value takes its place. Remembering this can make change easier to accept. Holding the site of the shed for the retreat house, and opening that space where the pecan tree was remind me of the work of spiritual companionship (or spiritual direction).
When I have an hour-long appointment with a client for spiritual direction, I put a bookmark in all my other activities and sit in silence for a while before they arrive. Opening space in heart and mind for this individual is my preparation. Then during our time together, my role is to hold space for them to wonder and explore how God is working in their lives. Neither of us directs. The direction we seek together is from God, or Spirit, or Jesus. Whether or not you and I are in a professional role with others, the most abundant gift we can offer in friendship or kinship is to open space in our agenda to accommodate theirs, and then hold space to be fully present to one another.