For complex reasons, I have been unable to attend Meeting for Worship for a very long time.  How deeply I miss it.  It is not the same as meditation, neither on my own, nor with another, nor Meeting online.  I want “my Meeting”.  The place that enriched, that nourished, that spiritually empowered me to find something in myself I didn’t know was there.  I ache for that Meeting.  But it is gone.  It has changed.  Not for the worse, but it is so very different and I don’t know my place in it any more.

Being in groups is so hard for me when I don’t have a leadership role.  I observe myself feeling around for whether there is any place for me to lead as an elder in my old Meeting, for it is sorely lacking the nourishment an elder brings.  Somehow it is not time.  Somehow, I suspect, I need to be there in my vulnerability and discomfort first.  I need to allow myself to be humble, which is so very hard for me.

 What a blessing and privilege it is to work with other elders.  Yet, I am aware that as long as I feel alienated from my local Meeting something is holding me back from deepening that work.  It is the way of Friends that we seek from our local Meeting the checks and balances needed to ensure our spiritual calling is true.  Without that anchor I feel adrift.  Surely I am not the first solitary seeker.  Quakers over the centuries find themselves isolated periodically.  Sometimes by geography, other times by virtue of our faith being one of convincement.  Some among us find ourselves at odds with our local Meeting if we feel called to speak out against something that’s happening there which we can’t abide.

 I do long for retreat.  Retreat is not an easy space for me to occupy, but it is a necessary discomfort for me.  Finding the words to articulate what that call is about is hard.  A ministry is being called out of me.  It is my habit to fight it.  It is my habit to strive and argue and apply my egotistical will.

 When one practises surrender deeply and frequently enough, there is no question about whether one will align oneself with Divine Will or not.  It simply happens.  What remains is for us to foster openness and devotion.  It has been my lot in life to repeatedly observe that while a contemplative order and rhythm to one’s days creates momentum and facilitates surrender, my temperament does not submit readily to the discipline.

 So I am left to reassure myself that this is not a sign of unworthiness or incapacity.  I am left to seek out those wispy tendrils of Light, to remind myself often “where did I last find God?”.  And go there, and go there again.  Think not on whether one goes often enough or close enough.  Questions like this simply vex the mind and waste time that could be spent more fruitfully in peace and joy.