On Embracing Ordinary Time

living from the idea that all will be well

Right now I can hear an assortment of birds chirping, the wind rustling through some big pines, and a gentle lapping of waves over big rocks. I smell the earthy piney scent that permeates many northern woodlands near big lakes, and I feel the cool air moving in from across the water. Lake Superior is calm right now and hosting a few loons bobbing 20 feet off shore as a misty fog starts to roll in with the afternoon. Lupines line highway 61 in abundance, and in a few weeks there will also be an abundance of thimbleberries¹ to taste once all the blossoms I’ve seen along the trails turn into fruit. All seems well at this moment of sitting on the deck of the little cabin I rented after several days at Camp House (a branch of Waters Edge Ministries, and ELCA camping ministry). I’m taking a few extra days on the shore, allowing the past week to integrate—to take hold in me as I prepare to return to the regular (and ordinary) rhythm of life at home.

Here’s the shore in front of the cabin.

Returning to camp after 20 years of not being at camp felt like slipping into some old clothes that still fit really well and have perhaps even gotten more comfortable with age. We sat together in contemplative silence, we shared communal meals, we paddled and swam through wild water with the loon family on the lake. We wrote poetry, moved, and breathed with great intention.² We listened to each other and ourselves. We dropped a little more fully into the experience of being human on an ever-evolving planet and took solace in the idea that we aren’t meant to navigate through this life alone; that we need each other, the Earth, and the God we know in order to stay the course; that when we live with love as our center, we move closer to knowing the truth of Julian of Norwich’s³ words when she wrote:

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."

It’s obviously not an easy idea to wrap your head around…how can ‘all be well’ when so many things on planet earth are clearly very far from ‘well’? That’s a question I don’t have an answer for, but what I do know is that when we sit in the wild silence, either in peaceful solitude or in the company of a community, we are closer to knowing what being well can mean.⁴

Ordinary Time

It's time often rushed through, 
scheduled over, or lamented for its dullness.
Something to get through
so the next thing can take place, 
the thing that will make a difference
the thing that has big impact,
the thing that makes something important happen
the mountaintop moment we've been waiting for.
 
But here's the thing. 
Ordinary time--the seemingly unremarkable 
stretches of minutes and hours and days--
that's what binds the big stuff together
into one cohesive quilt, stitched and mended
by the capacity to hold the mundane, 
to allow it to be here, with us
reminding us that ordinary

holds its own kind of beauty,
reminding us the mountaintop is nice
and it's not where we live most of the time. 
The mountaintop only has room for a few, 
and the winds can be fierce if you stay too long.
But ordinary time? There's a table long enough for all, 
and your cabin is never far away if you need a sweater. 
(Also the canteen has sweatshirts.)

Ordinary time shows us
all will be well
all will be well
all will be well
when we sit in the silence
and allow not knowing
to lead the way
toward love. 

What helps you integrate what you receive while on retreat? What does hearing “all will be well” bring up for you right now? What does “ordinary time” have to say when you allow it space to be?

1. Thimbleberries taste very similar to wild raspberries but with a softer, almost velvety texture, and they are slightly sweeter.

2. This was the adult version of camp games.

3. Julian is an English mystic who lived in the 14th century, and many of her writings were read aloud during the week. Brian is the one who introduced us to her, and you can learn more about his music here: brianvschroeder.com

4. I fully acknowledge it’s easier to sit with that question and imagine that all will be well when the water of a great lake is lapping at your feet and there are none of the ‘worries of home’ whispering (yelling) that they need immediate attention in the background.