My prayers – and the ways in which I pray – are many and varied but increasingly I feel drawn to the ‘expectant silence’ of Quaker prayer I grew up with. Driving to work today after the excitement and drama of the long weekend, I was trying to still my mind and ‘wait upon the Lord’.
As I came to the top of the hill, a movement on the other side of the carriageway caught my eye. I glanced across and saw a clutch of tiny ducklings were frantically running in circles on the edge of the road. Snatching a second glance, I saw what I knew I’d see next – their mother’s body lying smashed on the white line a little further along the road.
I couldn’t help but feel for the orphaned ducklings and, as my heart softened, I immediately realised that I was being presented with two distinct pictures. The first, a stark snapshot a sacrifice made so that others could live; the second, a metaphor for how we often behave, running around lost and bereft without a guiding presence.
As I drove on, I thought of a worship song lyric I’ve often sung – ‘break my heart for what breaks yours’ – and I realised I had been taken at my word, my heart breaking for His sacrifice and our need for Him. More and more, I am drawn to conclude that my faith journey is experiential above all else.