The other day, I was talking to an acquaintance who is also a very good listener. We've talked several times before in great depth but it was in the most recent conversation that she says to me, "You sound like a traveler."

I smile, thinking of all the trips I've taken and the ones yet to be planned, but I knew she was responding to me telling her that I don't know exactly where I'm going (professionally, relationally, etc.) and that I'm learning to enjoy the discovery. She adds, "I think you see life as a journey and you enjoy traveling it, while others may be more at peace by staying where they are."

I had never thought of it like that. It's true that I love to travel, literally. And, the truth is I am more at home as a traveler (also in my internal and spiritual life), though my first inclination was to disagree. Isn't it "wrong" to travel professionally, let alone spiritually? Doesn't that mean, if you're a traveler, that you're never satisfied (and isn't it somehow blasphemous to not be satisfied with God)? Shouldn't you just stay put and settle down, particularly after you reach adulthood? 

Much of our lives we try to fit in. To be accepted. To follow the norm. We all want to feel our place in our families, communities, churches. We were born for community. It is vital for our survival. But there comes a time in life, thankfully, when we realize that's just too much work to try to be accepted for someone we are not; and we realize we want to fit in more with ourselves. We become self-accepting -- our idiosyncrasies, our shadows, and all. 

So, instead of pushing away my friend’s discerning reflection, I found myself smiling and nodding, fully embracing that part of me that at times had me embarrassed: "Yes, I am a traveler." I exhaled deeply as if I was somehow making more room for myself in this world.

Being a "traveler" and accepting that doesn't mean I'm going to take a year to go backpacking (I'm not that kind of traveler) or that I don't love being home (which I do). But it does mean that a sense of clarity, purpose and acceptance allows everything else to line up. Example: I've stared cleaning out my closet. Something I've been thinking about for months, but it was my saying aloud and to somehow who was listening "I am a traveler" that sparked me into action. 

Sounds simple, right? Wrong! I keep everything in my closet and have more than enough clothes and shoes and handbags for one person. But who wants to travel through life with all that stuff? I've learned from my domestic and international travels that it's best to pack light. If I can't carry it myself, then I have to make the decision of what goes and what stays. Same with life. Sometimes we need to "pack light" even when we're staying in with a good book.

Whether you are a "traveler" or not, life requires us to move in some direction. In all directions, really. Travel lightly. Take only what is necessary. Only what is needed, what is beautiful or what is deeply meaningful. You will need the space for the surprises God has in store. The ones yet to be revealed. Now, let's get ready to go!

Love, 
A Traveler 

Yesterday, I woke up and had nothing on my to-do list. It was the first Saturday in a while I didn't have anything "important" to do or anywhere to be. I stayed in bed passed 8:00 a.m., wondered how I was going to spend my day, prayed for direction.

A couple of hours later I decided to visit a craft exhibit in the town where I live. On the way, I noticed a police officer directing traffic for a different event at the botanical garden. I followed his direction and the other drivers, parked, and walked into a space I had always passed but never visited.

As I sat alone, under a tree (see picture), on a bench in the garden, with the sun on my face and the breeze against my cheek, I thought, "So, this is what God wanted me to do today. To come, find this third space, and just be. To let God love me in this way and for me to be still long enough to recognize and accept it."

Let's be honest, our days are filled to the limit with activity that it's hard to imagine having space for down time. It's just the way of life, right? There are meetings, errands, taking care of others, maybe exercising, and always work. Leisure time in our culture has been restricted to a one-week vacation maybe once a year. 

When I woke yesterday with no appointments on my calendar, I wondered if God would be pleased with me doing "nothing" all day. But, do we always have to be doing something in order to please God? Or better yet, is God more pleased with our works than our desire and effort to spend quality time developing and nurturing our spiritual self? I don't think so though the world does all it can to prove otherwise. 

Sitting in the garden, with no place to rush off to, no deadline to meet, was a gift I would have ignored if I was stuck on having an agenda. When we're busy being busy we miss the beauty of life that God wants to give us. We go around complaining about what's missing when really it's right in front of us…if only we take the time to open our mind. When we are focusing on our list we miss the Light. 

Pathmates, we have to remember what's important and take time to check our priority list, if we're going to check any list. If we don't, work and the illusions of life will become what's most important to us and our religion (relationship with God) will become secondary or nonexistent. 

The experience in the garden filled my heart more than what good work can and it was the perfect reminder of what's essential as spiritual beings on this journey as human beings -- our quality time with God. I did make it to the craft exhibit but it was hours after my time under the tree communing with the Creator. 

About a year ago, I was seriously contemplating whether God's call on my life included motherhood. Seems my prayers focused on if I was to stay in the relationship I was in (he has children and doesn't want anymore), if I should freeze my eggs for the next "Mr. Right," or if I needed to accept at age 41 that biological children weren't in my future. 

That season was a heavy one. I think anytime that we can't see clearly, we can easily become consumed by doubt and darkness. We pour ourselves over scripture looking for clues. We lay prostrate under the sky as a sign of our desire to hear God clearly. We fast and we pray. Still, sometimes, there is silence. Or maybe crickets. The sound that nothing is coming and that this will be a long waiting period (like labor, perhaps?).

But when our "biological clock" is ticking, patience is an unheard of attribute. And the more impatient we are and the less rational we become, the more we "blame" and question God. 

We ponder, "Isn't this something God wants me to have clarity about? Surely, He/She doesn't want me to walk around here aimless!" Even if it's not about being a parent, I imagine you've shared these sentiments at some point, with something. I think questions like these are posted in neon color on some of the roadblocks we encounter on our journey.  

Thankfully, at those roadblocks are also friends waiting with a glass of water. I remember talking to one of mine about my desire for clarity on motherhood. I was confused and frustrated mostly by what seemed to be God's lack of concern about my situation. I was jumping up and down trying to get God's attention (and answer) and, out of breath, I simply said to my friend, "Where is God in all of this?"

Her answer surprised me, and I can still her the calmness and smile in her voice when she said, matter-of-factly, "God is right there. Right in your ovaries."

I had to sit with her words and find out what they meant to me in my time of discernment. An answer didn't come out of the sky about if and when I would become a Mom, but I embraced, on a fuller level that it is God who created my body -- biological clock and all -- and beautifully so. And just as there are seasons externally there are seasons internally. There's no judgment to that. It's just the way it is. It's a part of God's masterful design. 

The truth is, there is a little piece of God in each of us -- wombs included -- whether we have children or not; whether we have wanted children or not; planned to have children or not. Knowing the womb is the center of our creativity, it's hard to think that powerful, creative energy is only for birthing a child. 

Wait. The womb is also the holding and birthing place for a mission, passion, dream, right?! Nothing replaces a heartbeat and the love between a child and a parent, but there is also more ways to look at God's creativity. 

We will never know or understand all the answers to our life questions, but when we surrender knowing that God loves us and wants to give us the Kingdom, then we can truly say, "not my will but your will," without attachment. That's having faith -- trusting God when you don't have what you want or think you want. 

I may not experience a Mother's Day as someone's mother but I am thankful to know on this Mother's Day how deeply God loves me, even down to my ovaries and beyond. I'm also thankful for my own mother who loves me deeply, and for all the sisterly love I receive from so many on the path that gives me wind for my wings. We are called to love like mothers even if we do not have children -- to fully embrace and protect that which has been give to us be it our creativity, the planet, other's children...

The journey continues. The Love of God is our guide. 

The best Easter sermon I’ve ever heard arrived in the form of a Facebook post. A friend shared the wonder and excitement of an Easter morning through the eyes of her preschool daughter. The four year old perfectly summed up her delight in flower draped crosses and baskets of candy eggs and chocolate bunnies by exclaiming:  “So much Jesus everywhere!” Indeed, there is so much Jesus everywhere. So much promise fulfilled, so many miracles. What then keeps my eyes from recognizing Jesus?

On a recent trip to Panama, I found myself in a boat bumping along over the clearest water I’ve ever encountered. Below me lay hectares of various coral species, but to my great disappointment I could see no fish swimming in that tropical garden. After fumbling with the flippers and snorting salt water into the mask, though, I finally managed get a good look around. Immediately, I saw two iridescent fish the size of my arm. I’d barely registered them before an entire school of yellow and black striped sergeants parted to let me swim past. I even saw a barracuda (Caution: singing while snorkeling is ill-advised).

So much Jesus everywhere!

Later in the week, my alarm rang very early one morning. Very, very early. I followed my Panamanian guide (did I mention I don’t speak Spanish?) up a spiral staircase 40 meters into the air and found myself above the canopy of the rainforest. I saw miles of green treetops and very little else. With time, patience and lots of gesturing, however, amazing things materialized. There were entire flocks of brilliantly colored toucans (Yes, the Froot Loops bird!), woodpeckers, hummingbirds, even parakeets and parrots. IN THE WILD! There were even howler monkeys swinging from the branches.

So much Jesus everywhere!

I concede that vacation time and the luxury of an exotic locale made seeing all this wonder much easier. I arrived back in Greensboro, though, to a city that had bloomed in my absence. One glance at the new green leaves, the pinks and whites of azaleas and dogwoods, even the abundance of yellow pollen, reminded me that I needn’t look very far to experience awe for the magnificence of a living, breathing, ever-resurrecting creation.

So much Jesus everywhere!

It turns out that “not seeing” is less about what there is to see and more about what I expect to find. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, I get too caught up in what I think is in front of me or what I expect to be in front of me to really give my full attention to seeing. Couple that with a lamentable tendency to be inwardly focused or rushing from one thing to another, and suddenly I’m blind to the nuance and subtleties, the multiple layers and stories that are awaiting discovery. My presuppositions, my distractions, my expectations all keep my eyes from recognizing what I see. I need to remember that it is entirely possible that’s not just a woefully uninformed traveler walking the road with me. It’s likely Jesus.

So much Jesus everywhere!

ANNE-BARTON CARTER holds a B.A. in Religion from the University of the South, an M.T.S. with a concentration in Ethics from Vanderbilt University Divinity School, and a Certificate in Non-Profit Management from Duke University.  Currently a partner with Healing Ground Retreat Ministry, Anne-Barton also teaches Servant Leadership in the middle school at Canterbury.