Learning to pray
I was probably six years old when my older brother taught me The Lord's Prayer. We would sit on top of the back of the black leather couch in the family room -- our backs against the wall, my feet barely touching the cushions -- and I would repeat after him a few words at a time. 

That was the beginning of my prayer life as I remember it. For me, prayer was about words and time with family. At dinners, it was a time where we would hold hands (and hoped you had a seat if Granddad was praying) around the table. Growing up, I didn't think much about praying, I just knew it was something we should do, and we did it together, and it seemed to work.

Throughout life, prayer has been my staple. Though all of my prayers haven't been answered in the way I desired, it's a part of my foundation and daily life. As I began growing in my spiritual walk, I wondered how I could grow in my prayer life. Was it a matter of praying longer or harder or was there a deeper path I was missing? After all, prayer is just prayer, right? And as long as you're doing it, you're good, right?

Desire to go deeper
Fast forward to last year. I'm sitting in a class at the Servant Leadership School of Greensboro when rector and instructor Rev. Tim Patterson introduces us to the concept of Centering Prayer. 

By definition, Centering Prayer, a Christian spiritual practice, is "a method of silent prayer that prepares us to receive the gift of contemplative prayer, prayer in which we experience God's presence within us, closer than breathing, closer than thinking, closer than consciousness itself. This method of prayer is both a relationship with God and a discipline to foster that relationship," (Contemplative Outreach, 2006). 

I will admit, I figured Centering Prayer would be a breeze. "No prob," I thought. I pray. I've been known to meditate. What could be the challenge with Centering Prayer? All I have to do is choose a "sacred word" and carve out time, preferably in the morning, and divine intervention would fall into my lap. Magic.
 
But as Tim talked and as we read more about Centering Prayer, and in my eagerness to grow and to learn new ways of encountering the divine, I cannot help but to think, But what about the words? What about giving your voice as an offering? How can I really be that still and silent?

As with any spiritual practice you are developing, it's best not to throw the baby out with the bath water. Certainly, there is nothing wrong with praying with words. Remember, Jesus' teaching of prayer involves words. Just because you use the spiritual practice of Centering Prayer doesn't mean you stop praying in familiar ways.

But was I ready
Centering Prayer has opened up to me, not only the knowledge, but the evidence of there being a deeper way of communing with God. And though it may sound glamorous and mysterious, Centering Prayer certainly isn't easy to do. At least not if you are like me and love the musical sounds of words and despise being silent for at least 20 minutes without permission to be carried away by thought or imagination.

I have stumbled these past several months with finding my way into a deeper relationship with God. With Centering Prayer, I couldn't find a sacred word. No one word seemed to fit as a symbol and reminder of my commitment to be silent before God. And, though I generally get up early, no time seemed to be the right time to spend a half an hour in this type of silence. And, did I really want God to see me? I mean, I know He does, but did I want to be intentional and lay all my deep secrets and flaws before Him? Be that naked and vulnerable?

Yes! 

I bought a beautiful prayer bench, changed a corner of my room into "sacred space," bought new candles to light. This seemed like a lot of extra steps to get before God but I kept telling myself to at least try to do it "right," and maybe I would get points for that, if nothing else. 

Then I remembered what Tim shared during class and began to picture the cross -- the space where the horizontal and vertical axises meet. That intersection is the space where we want to reside. That's where we meet Christ. Nothing else really matters when we follow that path.

There's a self emptying we must submit and surrender. Our thoughts and emotions are what keep us distant from our divine integrity and God himself. They keep us grounded here in our ego. God wants us to know a greater peace and existence, and doesn't really care about our ugliness like we trick ourselves into thinking. He sees our divine nature and brings that out when we don't block the process. 

The third space of the cross
Now, I go into Centering Prayer thinking of it as a meeting place, the third space of the cross, an invitation to meet God where it's just the two of us. I think of what it means to dive there, and then I let go of that and every other thought, as best as possible. I allow myself to just be there, without an agenda and sometimes without a sacred word. 

Do I feel God in the space that opens up during Centering Prayer? Sometimes yes. Other times it feels like static. But what I do experience is a difference in my day. A calmness. A clarity. A blessed assurance. I don't hear God's voice like I would someone else's or my own but answers and guidance do come, and effortlessly. 

I'm still learning how to journey to the center of the cross. Centering Prayer takes me there and closing each session with The Lord's Prayer brings me back up to meet the day with a fresh sense of who I am in Christ. It's not magic. It's not easy. But it is as necessary for growth as water.

Jesus says, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14, ESV)

I'm just coming from my weeklong Paris vacation. There's nothing like getting away to a culture and language you're not familiar with (I highly recommend it) to reset your inner compass. And as I've been reflecting on this week's blog, Paris cannot help but to make it's way to the forefront.

Think about it. There were the Metro and bus rides, the hour long walks, the delicious food and wine, the architecture and history that informed my daily life there (and CNN to keep me posted on what was going on back in the States), which is different than my current life in small town NC. 

Most of all, there was, what I call, a silent motion of the people. Every night, my companion and I would sit outdoors at a neighborhood cafe and "people watch" while reflecting on our day. Not only was it at night but during the day, everyone moved fast-paced (imagine New York City); but what struck me was how they were doing this with a silence and stillness. Some type of reverence to sound space. 

Folks on the buses and trains would talk to each other in a whisper. Though I don't know the French language, I could barely hear what one was saying on their cell phone. Still, a vast majority of those I saw day after day were engaged with each other or reading versus talking on their cell phones. Imagine that! 

I realize that we, in the US, are not only a culture of distractions but also of loudness. I have to admit, in full transparency, that I can be one of the loud ones, often not realizing until it's silent that I've been talking louder than I needed to. And you would agree with me, I'm sure, that nothing is worse that someone talking in public at an unnecessary volume. How rude, right? Yet, it happens here without awareness and apology more than we can probably count. 

When I think about third spaces, I wonder what culture presents itself there. Is a sub-culture created, fused by its members? It is the culture of the country? The establishment? Who defines it? Who changes it? What's allowed? What are the rules? If third space is the place where you can "just be," what makes it work for you and others? 

Interestingly, after being on crowded streets, buses and cafes -- with seats too close for an American's physical comfort -- and not feeling overwhelmed by large volumes of chatter, I was able to stay within myself while also being a part of what was going on without feeling drained or irritated. There was this sense that everyone was free in themselves without imposing who that was or what that felt like onto who you are or on your space, even though seats are in close proximity and folks didn't mind crowding in with their body. 

There are many gifts I was able to bring back with me from Paris, one is the awareness of the volume of noise we individually create. And though I'm someone who enjoys a great conversation and a good laugh, and others having the same, I realize that much of our noise is unnecessary and is a sign of American indulgence and insensitivity. 

There is enough space for all of us to "be" together if we remember that it's not just our physical bodies that take up space but our voices too. Is it more space than we need? More than likely, it is. 
 

So often, as humans, I have found that we have a tendency to doubt God's goodness. We either feel we don't deserve peace, joy, happiness or when we receive it we hold our breaths knowing at some point the rug is going to be pulled from us. But is this the character of the God Jesus talked about? 

When we hear the word sanctuary, we think of a church, tabernacle, a place of worship. It's a safe place, a haven. Some think of it as a place to be silent, others think of it as a place to make a joyful noise. Some would say it's a place for both. Those definitions ring true to me too, but I like to think of it, as well, as an internal spiritual "third space."

When American sociologist Ray Oldenburg coined the phrase "third space" in 1989, it was said that he was considering third space as the place between home and work where people can "just be" and "let their hair down." With 3rdSpaces.Com, we take a deeper look, using Oldenburg's definition of third space as a foundation and jumping point. We're looking at the spiritual third space. 

The spiritual third space isn't about being any one place specifically, like Oldenburg's book suggests (The Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffee Shops, Community Centers, Beauty Parlors, General Stores, Bars, Hangouts and How They Get You Through the Day), but about being aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit right where you are, including internally. 

So, if the spiritual third space, this internal sanctuary, isn't a physical place, what is it and how do we experience it? Perhaps it is a feeling, a sense, but it's one that is rooted in the heart center of the body -- a place deeper than you can touch physically. In thinking of it that way, it is a place where you go but it's an internal place. 

As with traveling to a physical destination, there are challenges (mostly unexpected!) in getting to the spiritual third space. There may be detours and last minute turns that lead down uncharted paths, long waits with lights out and no signs of where to go next, and backed up traffic (unresolved/healed issues that block clarity and closeness with God), let alone no GPS signal!

The spiritual third space -- or internal sanctuary -- is an opening where peace and comfort, despite physical conditions, saturate your physical and spiritual being. It's not a place where you ignore your challenges, pains, and discomforts but rather a place where you learn to sit with them. A place where Love is unconditional for self and others. It's where the presence of God is known and experienced above all else.

Because God is not confined to our image or our mind-made boundaries (thank goodness!), we are able to create this sanctuary in many ways and at any time. But it requires certain openness. 

Here's a list of what I've learned is required to create my inner sanctuary: 

1. Belief that God wants to enter my heart and dwell within,
2. Willingness to accept this Love even though I may not understand it (or feel I am worthy of it),
3. Surrender my thoughts,
4. Intentionally slowing down and being quiet, 
5. Trust of the process, and
6. Honest desire for God to surprise me!

(OK, so I"m still working on this last one, which is why it's the last one -- taking my hand off the wheel and letting the Spirit guide me completely.) 

This spiritual journey requires us to believe there is more to us and to life than what we can see or feel. There's a knowingness we sense; a knock on our hearts, in our souls, that says "this way." In my experience, and often to my surprise, "this way" has been to deeper paths internally and not somewhere "out there;" and the only way to it is to create the internal third space. 

It is written in the Old Testament that God tells the people of Israel to make a sanctuary that he may "dwell among them." I believe that God speaks to us to create an internal sanctuary. The third space makes room for this dwelling, this depth of intimacy and joy, and the greatest awakening we can ever experience.