Spiritual Perspectives
Tracing the Path of God in Our Lives

By Kris Pikaart
Special to The Independent

Last week a woman came to talk to me about the loss of someone that she desperately loves and needs. She talked about experiencing that pain, disorientation, and feeling of being lost. After talking and crying for a while, she felt a little better and said, "I know that God can get me through this too."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Well, there have been so many times in my life that I felt I was peering over the edge of the grave: hopeless, sick, near death, in the midst of addiction. Now when I look back, I see that God snatched me up and set my feet back on the ground."

"Tell me about those times," I said.

So she did, at least a few of them. Times when she knew her cries were heard. Times she felt an angel was sent in the disguise of a neighbor or even a stranger. Times she lived through something that no person ought to be able to live through.

It struck me as she talked that she was doing something that the Israelites did many times in their long trek through the wilderness to get to the Promised Land. In that long journey through the wilderness, the Israelites often faced new and apparently death-dealing problems no food, no water, attackers, despondency and snakes. And each time, after griping and worrying, eventually someone would remember to pray to God and each time he or she would say something like, "You are the God who freed us from slavery. You are the one who took us through the Red Sea and stopped our enemies in their tracks. Now, help us in this situation."

Before listening to my friend, I hadn't quite realized that the Israelites were doing what many people do they were gaining strength to face their hardships by looking back and tracing the path of God's presence in their lives. Only by looking back could they bear to face forward again.

I often think that we humans seem fundamentally programmed to face forward. Our minds race ahead of ourselves so easily. We are on to the next project before we are quite done with the last. Kids arrange their lives by looking forward to the next grade and the next holiday (many of us adults do the same). We can be so future-oriented. But looking ahead rarely has the affect of making us feel grateful.

Usually, like when we were kids, we spend so much time looking forward that the real thing rarely measures up and we are disappointed.

I recently had an experience that gave me a new view on the spiritual wisdom of remembering. I occasionally lead groups over at our inpatient addictions unit. A few months ago I was asked to lead a spirituality group there. Not having much time to plan for what I'd do in that group, I just grabbed some paper, crayons, markers and drove over. We gathered together me and these ten or so people who were hospitalized because of their addictions to alcohol and drugs. They were folks who have lived through way too much, even though many were quite young. They were people who have been on the streets for years, people whose lives have become unmanageable, and who were here working through a battle of epic proportions over who or what would be in control of their lives. That evening, I posed this question to them: "Can you remember a time when you experienced God's presence to you? Not just a time when you chose to believe, but a time when you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was with you."

Now some of these folks have used since they were 12 or 13. I didn't really know what they'd be able to come up with. But I had them take some time to remember and draw or write about that experience. After a while, I called us all back, and asked that they share a little.

The first woman talked about the birth of her baby, her surge of love as a mother, and the overwhelming knowledge that this is how much God loves her. Another talked about being so sick he almost died, and seeing an eagle fly over him to tell him that he would be o.k., that he was protected. Another remembered her own conversion at a revival. Another remembered a time when he was focused and driven and gifted. Another recalled a time when he was hiking and felt the presence of God. They cried as they told their stories, so dear and precious they were to them. It was as if they had discovered an old forgotten photo of a loved one. Every single one of them had a story to tell a story of a time that God had saved them from the depths. And I saw that these stories are sacred and that those experiences are as true as anything can be for them. I saw that we each get a few of these times. That most of the time we have to fly by faith, but we are given times when God comes to us, and we cannot doubt. To remember these times is a powerful act of faith, and of gratitude.

It's nearly Lent and I'm reminded that for people in the Christian tradition, we are about to embark on our own 40-day journey that reminds us of the Israelite's 40-year journey in the wilderness. It is a time that we are supposed to enter into focused prayer and repentance. Many people have the practice of giving up something chocolate, or TV as I will do this year, or even the news, as my newspaper fiend friend told me he will do. But perhaps a more spiritually focused goal would be to take some intentional time to remember to trace the trail of God in our own lives, in the lives of our ancestors, and to tell those stories to our friends and especially to our children. I suppose that is how we will help our children have the strength to face the inevitable challenges that will come their way.

Kris Pikaart is the chaplain for Rehoboth McKinley Christian Health Care Services. She can be contacted at kpikaart@rmchcs.org.

This column is the result of a desire by community members, representing different faith communities, to share their ideas about bringing a spiritual perspective into our daily lives and community issues.

For information about contributing a guest column, contact Elizabeth Hardin-Burrola at the Independent: (505) 863-8611, ext. 218 or lizreligion01@yahoo.com.