Almost every summer, I go to the New Jersey shore on silent retreat. I spend many hours walking on the beach each morning, gazing at the undulating waves, observing birds and clouds, looking for shells. I especially love the shells with a small hole that I can thread on a cord and wear around my neck for that day: a little gift from God.
I choose one shell. I almost always feel drawn to one particular shell. The following morning I find another shell for the new day. It has been a good practice for me of being watchful, and then receiving, what each day brings to me. One shell at a time.
One year on a longer silent retreat, I was led by God into a deeply prayerful, vulnerable, and healing space. On each of the first three morning walks, I found a larger whelk shell just casually lying on the sand ahead of me. It always appeared quite suddenly and as a great surprise. How did no one see this before I came along? Each shell was exquisite, with layers of soft pink, or bolder beige and gray. My hand fit perfectly inside the shells, cradling the delicate s-curved center. Back in my bedroom, I would often pray with one hand wrapped around the smooth inside of one of these shells.
On the fourth morning, while walking at low tide, I saw something colorful between some rocks far out on a stone jetty. I could reach it since the tide was out, and looking at it more closely, I saw that it was a child's plastic "Rescue Hero." Not every older woman would know what this plastic figure was :), but my grandson David loved the program Rescue Heroes, and we often watched the show together (sometimes even sharing it over the phone when he lived out of state). In each episode, there would be some exciting crisis or emergency, and one or two rescue heroes would valiantly come to save the day. I knew each character well. And this was "Billy Blazes" - the leader of the rescue team!
It felt like no coincidence that I had found the little plastic "hero" on a retreat that was feeling so tender. This little hero was a perfect symbol of rescue, and it carried such sweet memories of loving connection. I felt certain God was reminding me of His abiding presence with me, as I opened to a holy and deeper healing, and of my own strength.
These yearly beach-combing walks with God - for more than 20 years now - have become a precious way of prayer for me and remind me of a prayer practice called "Beachcombing" featured in Margaret Silf's book "Landscapes of Prayer." It is a form of doing the Ignatian Examen Prayer in which we look for the presence of God as we prayerfully walk along the '"beach" of our day.
Here is an excerpt from Margaret Silf's book, detailing this prayer form:
Time for Beachcombing
(A Form of the Prayer of Examen)
Beachcombing is a wonderful way to pray.
You might like to try it.
You don’t need a beach or an ocean to do it.
Just a little time, a little patience, open eyes and
an open heart.
“Beachcombing” is another way of describing the ancient form of prayer variously known as the “Review of the day” or the Examen. The “beach” is simply the experience of your day, just as it was, with all its ups and downs, its beautiful shells and its stinging jellyfish. To make this kind of prayer, just wander along that “beach” and see what you find. Your morning (or evening or anytime) prayer-stroll might look a bit like this:
· What has happened today to delight you, to give you a glimpse of joy, to make you feel more alive, more connected to God, to yourself, or to others?
· Who or what has nourished you in some way today, or helped to heal a hurt?
· Has the surf of your own life, the things you have said and done today, brought nourishment, healing, or a loving touch to someone else’s beach?
· Has anything happened today, or been said or done, that has triggered feelings of anger or sorrow or resentment in you? What do you think was at the root of those feelings?
· As you look back over your beach today, notice the trail of your footprints. Is there anything you regret in the path you have walked today, or anything you would want to handle differently tomorrow? If so, simply let it rest there between you and God, without judging yourself or anyone else.
As you bring your prayer to a close, gather up the treasures of your beachcombing, store them away in your heart, and then let the incoming tide wash everything else away.
Tomorrow you will walk once more on virgin sand.
from:
Landscapes of Prayer: Finding God in Your World and Your Life, by Margaret Silf.
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