Last night, when I was taking out an certain unnamed dog to do her business, the word “entrust” popped into my mind. It seemed to express something I was feeling and desiring, a true burden I’d been given by the Lord–the kind that Jesus describes as “light,” but still present.
I’ve recently gained two new directees/companions. This increases my number of directees to 2 or 3, depending on how you count. I am thrilled. I’ve wanted for a number of years now to be a spiritual director, really even before I understood what it was. My spirit is swelling with a great “YES!” that this ministry is coming to pass. And yet….these women are trusting me with their spiritual lives. That entrustment is both a gift to me and a solemn responsibility. Normally, responsibly is my nemesis, but in this instance, it seems properly balanced. I am not ultimately responsible for their lives, but I am responsible to be present to them, to pray with them, to share the burdens they share with me and to interceed for them.
This morning, as the word “entrust” came to me again, another phrase came, too; “compassionate presence.” I lived this phrase last year. It seems to me to sum up the attitude and aspect of the spiritual director. To be a wide, shallow bowl into which others can pour themselves, let themselves settle, and then look into to see themselves in relfection; I don’t just want this to describe me, I want this to be who I am.
Today has been a quiet day, so I’ve been able to let these two words bubble up within me from time to time. I let them linger inside me and I pray them and whatever comes out of them: gratitude, surrender, a little grief, concern and intercessions, settled-ness, quiet joy. Come, Lord Jesus. Come, Holy Spirit. Let me reflect your glory.