Soaking the sponge

Mary DeTurris Poust (Courtesy photo of CINDY SCHULTZ)

As we head into the season of backyard barbecues, weekend getaways and extended vacations, it can be easy to let go of the rhythm and structure that keep us anchored to God when we let go, even briefly, of the demands that exhaust us. On the one hand, we enter into a place where God is abundantly present in the most beautiful ways — sunrise on a beach, loons calling across a lake, sparks from a firepit dancing against the night sky. Even weeding a garden or mowing a lawn can become a moving meditation on a summer morning when both our schedule and the sky are clear. When God is evident everywhere we look, it’s tempting to think that’s enough. But our ability and inclination to recognize God in the everyday moments of our lives depends very much on our willingness to settle down with God in an intentional way daily, something that sometimes gets lost in the sweet freedom of summer.

A priest leading a retreat I attended years ago referred to this intentional and dedicated time with God as “soaking the sponge.” Imagine you are cleaning your kitchen counter with a dry sponge. You might move some dirt around, but you will not get the counter clean. Soak the sponge in water and everything changes. And so it is with our spiritual lives. We can notice God with awe in the daily moments of our days, but if we don’t regularly pause to soak the sponge of our spiritual lives, we remain on the surface, never sinking to a place where seeds of change are planted and true transformation can begin.

Don’t get me wrong. I am all about discovering the Divine in everyday moments. In fact, it’s the tag line of my website and the focus of one of my books. Part of me wishes that was enough, because it can be challenging to carve out dedicated time for God when so many other responsibilities are clamoring at our literal and figurative doors. It’s one reason I travel with a mini sacred space, setting up a battery candle, cross, rosary beads, and other items on my nightstand in any home-away-from-home I visit. It serves to remind me that while I may stand before the ocean in awe of God’s great goodness, I still need to come back to the cave of my heart and hang out with God one-on-one, not only offering prayers and praise but listening for what I might miss when I am moving through the world.

I recently wrapped up the 19th Annotation of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, a nine-month journey of daily structured prayer under the guidance of a wonderful spiritual director. As I reflected on the experience, I realized that the structure of the Exercises, which at times felt rigorous and overwhelming, was exactly what kept me deeply connected to God when I was going through a harsh challenge that was wearing me down physically and mentally. The requirement to show up every day to sit with Scripture and in silence before God kept me on an even keel, calling me back to my center when it would have been easy to spin out in every direction. As the Exercises ended this week, I wondered (and worried) that without the requirements, it might be easy to slip into a less devoted prayer life and in the process allow the sponge to dry and shrivel. I know if I don’t want that to happen, I have to find a space for God daily, not in the leftover spaces of my days but at the center.

When we create a rhythm that puts God first, even when we are on vacation or maybe especially then since time is more fluid, we begin to recognize God not just in the wonder of the spectacular but in the miniscule and mundane. Soak the sponge, and see what happens.

Mary DeTurris Poust is a writer, retreat leader and spiritual director living in the Capital Region. Visit her website at NotStrictlySpiritual.com.