by Margaret Silf
“Each breath a stepping-stone to God.”
T
hese words have made a home in my heart. I let the feeling paint its picture in my prayer today. I let myself walk into the picture, feel
the swirl of the river, and stand on the stepping- stone. My whole prayer today wants to be just time standing there in God’s unseen presence, on the stepping-stone. Te river is wide, so wide that I can’t see the other
shore, however hard I strain my eyes. Te water is clear and wild, full of unseen currents and unexpect- ed rapids but calm shallows as well. I feel at home in the river, standing on an island of truth. Behind me on the riverbank is my little home, a
stone-built cottage that keeps me warm and safe and keeps the world at bay. My cottage is my kingdom, a place to return to when the river runs too wild and too cold, or when predators stalk the shoreline. Tere is something disconcerting in the view out
over the water. What had seemed like a journey of adventure when I began to seek God’s truth and his Kingdom, is not all that it seemed because I can see only one stepping-stone, and I’m standing on it. Tere is no way forward. I can’t do anything about my position. I’m stand-
ing here in the water on the one and only stone. All I can do is stand here in the present moment and re- alize that there is no journey because there is no way. Tere is a line of stones leſt behind me, but I don’t want to go back. Truly, I don’t want to go back.
For a moment I feel a wave of panic, but it recedes
and leaves me free to stand on my stone, breathing the air, feeling the spray of the water, listening to God’s heartbeat pulsing through creation. And wait- ing, just waiting, for God. And then, when my heart is still, God is there be-
side me, silently placing the next stone in front of me and inviting me to take another step into the track- less waters. Another breath, another prayer, another stone. Just one more stone. My breathing becomes steady, each breath a
stepping-stone to God. As time passes, I learn to recognize God’s ways, and to trust, when I stand in the middle of the fast-moving water, that he will always bring me one more stone – just one – and call me forward to one next step. I welcome his arrival, and smile my silent greeting. I come to expect him and to know I can rely on
him. I stand here on my stone, my little rocky island, and feel a ripple of anticipation as I turn toward the riverbank to greet him as he comes. He is a little late today, still there on the riverbank searching out the right stone. And only now I see how he is doing it. He is taking the stones away, one by one, from my cottage on the riverbank. Already it is half demol- ished. He is dismantling my kingdom, bit by bit, to provide me with the way to discover his.
Excerpt from Inner Compass by Margaret Silf, copyright © 2007. Used with permission. Published by Loyola Press,
www.LoyolaPress.com.
About the artwork: KERRI BRADFORD is an artist, illustrator, and creator of random and sundry messes. Kerri has taught art and art history at several universities and now works at a local museum. A United Methodist clergy spouse, Kerri lives in Little Rock with her husband, two teenage children, and a spoiled geriatric cat. The custom art that accompanies this excerpt was created as a response to Margaret Silf’s “Stepping-Stones” specifically for this issue of WorshipArts.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________ January-February-March 2021 • WorshipArts •
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