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Being Benedictine

Living SoulFully as an Oblate of St. Benedict

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Jodi Blazek Gehr

SoulCollage® Facilitator, Benedictine Oblate of Christ the King Priory, Retreat Leader at St. Benedict Center, Blogger at Being Benedictine and SoulFully You, Teacher, Mother, Wife, Friend, Lover of learning, reading, creativity and spirituality.

Let it Be… and a little more light, please. (2026 Word of the Year)

In the tradition of ancient monastics, each year I ask for a word to ponder, a word that I will prayerfully focus my attention on for the new year.  It may be something I hope for or an attribute I want to cultivate in my life, but always for the surprise of what it might teach me, lessons I did not know needed to be learned.

The new word does not replace the old one, but enfolds, envelops, and encompasses it, another revolution on the spiral of my spiritual journey. As I reflect on the last several Words of the Year, this is still my truth: I want to hold all of life fully (2024)—the bittersweet moments and the sweet surprises, with “eyes open to wonder (2023), holy surprises, and synchronicity.” I want to see the light (2025) in the darkness. I want to be the light in the darkness.

Reflecting on a very challenging year and the tragedies, trauma, and “presidential” tirades of the first few weeks of 2026, it is clear—we need a little more light, please. And so, I hold light, my 2025 word of the year, in my heart as comfort and guide in tumultuous times, as a reminder to shine, safeguard, and trust the Divine light, and to add the mantra “Let it Be”.

On a recent SoulFully You retreat I guided, we explored how the human experience is a dance between dark and light, and that there is always a little glimpse of the other. Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “Suffering comes from our reluctance to learn to walk in the dark… Blessing the day means accepting my full quota of light and of dark, even what I cannot see what I am blessing.”

How do we carry both darkness and light in our daily lives?

Fr. Thomas Keating, a Trappist monk, founding member of Contemplative Outreach, and an integral figure in the Christian contemplative prayer movement, suggests using the Welcoming Prayer, which has deep roots in the monasticism of the desert fathers and mothers.

Together, we practiced a Welcoming Prayer guided by David Benner, founder of Cascadia Living Wisdom. Step 1 in the process is Focus; Step 2 is Welcome; Step 3 is Let it Be—“Remember Jesus’ words in the garden of Gethsemane, ‘Not my will but thine be done’…or think of Mary, the mother of Jesus, as she responded to the annunciation. Let it be. This response is at the heart of Paul McCartney’s song called Let it Be.”

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the brokenhearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see; there will be an answer, let it be

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me
Shinin’ until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Songwriters: Paul McCartney / John Lennon Let It Be lyrics © Sony/atv Tunes Llc

And so let it be.

When the spiral of negative thinking begins, let it be. “I need sanctuary from the constant rerun of conversations and/or situations that have led to hurt feelings and a sense of rejection. I need sanctuary from the relentless inner conversations that distract me from living fully and hold me a prisoner in the role of victim… Over and again, I hear that I must be silent, to listen to the breath of God within me, to still the thoughts. And then, carry on (2020).”

When I feel an urgency to get beyond the discomfort of making a decision, let it be. “I shall allow myself the cushion (2018) of time needed to make any decision. There is no need to rush, to over-commit… I shall gently bump into the ever-so-soft cushion I have gifted myself as a reminder to listen to the ear of the heart.“

Continue reading “Let it Be… and a little more light, please. (2026 Word of the Year)” →
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The Healing Power of Soul Stories

“Vision stories, both empower and heal the soul. The right story told at the right time helps a soul knit together life‘s broken pieces. Stories work in the unconscious mind slowly through time, healing our spirits as we absorb their truths. Soul stories evoke a more powerful response than doctrine or precept. They transmit real life-changing power,” writes Rev. John Sumwalt, a retired United Methodist pastor whom I met on a Celtic Christianity pilgrimage to Ireland and Scotland.

John and I have stayed in touch since then, sharing our interests, writing, and travels. I am honored that he asked me to collaborate on a retreat day called “The Healing Power of Soul Stories” at the Unity Center in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, on Saturday, February 7. The one-day program sponsored by the Wisconsin Affiliate of the Association for Research and Enlightenment includes presentations and sharing sessions led by John Sumwalt , Philip Hasheider, and myself (see article for bios.)

Article in Agri-View, a Madison, Wisconsin newspaper, written by John Sumwalt.

We come into this world as carriers of stories. We carry generational stories, universal stories, and our own personal stories–stories that tell us something about ourselves and our God. Our SoulCollage® cards tell our soul story, reflecting parts of our inner self and archetypes, or larger energies, that have chosen to work in us.  “Stories give us hope, a little guidance, and a lot of bravery,” writes Sue Monk Kidd. It is through our stories that we come to know the Divine. Frederick Buechner goes a step further–“to lose track of our stories is to be profoundly impoverished not only humanly but also spiritually.” SoulCollage® has been an essential prayer practice of listening to the stories of my life. I look forward to sharing!

For more information and a registration form, go HERE.

John Sumwalt writes for a number of publications including United Methodist Insight., Agri-View, and has several books.

© Jodi Blazek Gehr, Being Benedictine Blogger

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Flowers and Fear, Side by Side

January 2026 Oblate Reflections, Christ the King Priory, Schuyler, Nebraska

Theme: Balance and Moderation; Lectio Divina: Matthew 6: 25-34

Sources: Wisdom Distilled from the Daily, Joan Chittister, Chapter 6 “Monastic Mindfulness: A Blend of Harmony, Wholeness, Balance; In place of confusing life patterns, the security of a healthy balance – The Holy Rule of St. Benedict Podcast w/ Fr. Mauritius Wilde, OSB

Our Lectio Divina reading mentions ‘worry’ six times. Our default emotion can be to worry in the face of an uncertain future, when we fear the worst or feel there may not be enough time, money, food, or stuff. Some of us worry more than others. We are constantly fed cultural and marketing messages that tell us we will be more comfortable if we buy this, more admired if we buy that, safer if we own this, and happier with that. When do we have enough? How do we find a balance? What is the secret to less worry?

So often, we worry about what we have no control over, and our stewing does not change the outcome. Only our peace of mind and heart are disturbed. Joan Chittister writes, “We’re a people who lack awareness. We’re a world that has lost a sense of balance…To live a life of Benedictine awareness means we must come to see what we cannot. To the monastic mind, everything speaks of God. What I have and what I do not have. What I want and what I do not want….Life takes a sense of significance and a happy admission of insignificance.”

We matter. Our wants and our needs matter, yet we are not the center of the universe. We are significant and insignificant simultaneously. Humbly, we must admit that we are not in control of everything, everyone, or every outcome. Things happen, but God accompanies. Our worry does not help. Our controlling tendencies do not get us what we want. Our worry, in fact, is an impediment to living our present moment most fully.

In Matthew 6, it is written, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

These words can be comforting and a reminder that we can only do so much. We can put into action only what we can and let be what we cannot change. Recognizing and naming our emotions of worry and fear can be helpful. “Awareness of the sacred in life is what holds our world together and the lack of awareness and sacred care is what is tearing it apart,” writes Chittister.

Our attention is the first step. When we notice our attachment to physical things, habits, routines, our desire to fix, help, or solve, God is with us as we face our life in truth. Life gives us grief and uncertainty, over and over again. We must accept that this is part of the whole picture of our lives.

Chittister writes about a stained-glass window in the chapel of her monastery — each window carries a different concept, meaning, and design, yet they are not in conflict with one another. It is the light that gives each segment its integrity, blending them together as one. “What is it that makes for unity among the many opposing energies we meet in life that could instead become just so many instances of noisy clash and conflict? What is it that brings life together and nature and people together and the world together and nature together?”

Continue reading “Flowers and Fear, Side by Side” →
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When The Moon is Full

“When we ‘name’ we connect… Naming allows for relationship. When we name anyone or anything, there’s the possibility of coming closer.” –Fragments of Your Ancient Name, Joyce Rupp

For millennia, people have looked to the moon to mark time, to guide their planting, harvesting, hunting, and gathering. Naming the full moon was both practical and sacred. The moon names were a way to notice, remember, and honor the patterns of the living world, drawing from the seasons and ordinary life events. It was also a way to remember that time itself is sacred, fleeting, passing with each full moon. For Native Americans, time was expressed by how many moons had passed.

“Many Native American peoples, and later the colonists who lived beside these winter lands, noticed how the wolves’ voices grew strongest when the year was at its emptiest. Food was scarce, snow lay deep, and the nights stretched wide and unbroken. And so this moon—January’s full moon—came to be known as the Wolf Moon, a name born from the simple truth of those winter evenings: wolves calling out to one another through the dark.” –Friends of the Forest

Recently, I led a Full Moon Soulfully You retreat with kindred spirits. We celebrated the diversity of names for the moon and read the endearing children’s book “When the Moon Is Full” by Penny Pollack.

Each month holds a rhythm of expansion and contraction—of growth, fullness, release, and renewal. Our spiritual journey and the seasons of our life align with the deep rhythms of the universe. Naming our longings and fears, the parts of ourselves that we might see as fragile or vulnerable, is holy work and prayer. Every aspect of our life has meaning, especially the challenging ones, the aspects of ourselves we hide out of fear that we’ll be misunderstood or judged. To live fully, wholly, holy, whole is to gather the fragments, the bones of who we are, and bless them. On retreat, we use the prayerful, creative SoulCollage practice to name these parts.

“Full moons come, full moons go, softening nights with their silver glow. They pass in silence, all untamed, but as they travel, they are named.” -When the Moon is Full, Penny Pollock

As you gaze at the full moon tonight (or any month), consider the following journaling or card-making prompts. Listen to the Full Moon chant, or like a wolf, howl at the moon!

  • What is your longing? What do you fear?
  • How can you hold your longings and fears together?
  • What part of yourself would you like to name?
  • Is there a name or archetype you want to embrace?
  • What name for the Divine resonates with you?
  • Are you in a season of darkness? Does it need to be named?

May the Full Moon remind you of your blessings, tonight and for many moons to come!

There are never enough names and images for what we love. -Dorothee Soelle

© Jodi Blazek Gehr, Being Benedictine Blogger

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Light (and Darkness): 2025 Word of the Year in Review

It is good to remember that light and darkness cannot be separated. There is always a little glimpse of the other.

When life runs like a well-oiled machine, and things are going our way, confidence is high, and joy is palpable. It is then that we begin to feel invincible—that this good fortune is what we deserve. When the inevitable challenges, losses, or setbacks come, we feel the wind knocked out of our sails.

On the other hand, to succumb to darkness, despair, or hopelessness is to snuff out the candle of hope that we must cling to, or what is this all for?  Being Benedictine means holding both/and—seeking the light while also honoring and learning from the darkness.

“When we come to understand that everything in our world, including its darker aspects, derives from God, we begin to realize that much of what we perceive as “bad” is, from the divine perspective, simply another piece of the sacred whole…that which appears as darkness to us may very well be the beacon to our redemption.” -Niles Elliot Goldstein, God at the Edge

My guiding star, my 2025 Word of the Year, LIGHT, has helped me embrace this yin/yang reality in my life and the world.

“Life is a balance between what we can control and what we can’t. You must learn to live comfortably between effort and surrender.” -Danielle Orner  Steph Edwards @toyoufromsteph

It is no secret that 2025 has been a tough year. We knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it has felt more…well, just more than we could have imagined. (See truth-tellers like Heather Cox Richardson, Robert Reich, Rebecca Solnit, Parker Palmer, and Pope Leo who shine their light into the darkness of a threatened democracy, giving hope to those marginalized and suffering around the world. I have shared my truth on these matters here: Be The Light: A 4th of July Message.)

Personally, we started 2025 with unexpected news, challenges, and worries about family and friends. We lost Joe’s brother, Steve, in a tragic accident, but were comforted that two successful transplant surgeries resulted from his donated organs.

More here–Remembering Steven Gehr: OK. I know. Good. OK.

I missed my teacher colleagues in my first full year of retirement, but had more time for reading and writing, coffee and lunch dates, book discussions, and binge-watching Outlander. I attended the Okoboji Writers Retreat, led two SoulFully You retreats, and collaborated on another.

Continue reading “Light (and Darkness): 2025 Word of the Year in Review” →
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O Antiphons: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!

The traditional Advent hymn “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” which many are familiar with, is a paraphrase of the lesser-known O Antiphons written by Benedictine monks in the Middle Ages. One of the oldest liturgical rituals in the Church, the O Antiphons have been sung since at least the 8th century. These short prayers, starting with O followed by a title given to the Messiah from Old Testament prophecies, are sung before the Magnificat during Evening Prayer from December 17–23, the last seven days before Christmas. Each antiphon describes God in terms of Old Testament traits and images.

Images and symbols that appear in dreams, art, literature, or scripture carry both personal and universal meaning. Serving as a bridge between the unconscious and the conscious, images can nourish our spirit. “Images open windows through which we can see realities formerly hidden from us. Images want to infuse themselves into us and to change us from the inside out, ” writes Anselm Grün.

Images are an essential part of rituals, prayer, self-reflection, and creativity. When practicing SoulCollage®, one of my favorite spiritual practices, images can guide us to a new level of awareness and reveal a deeper understanding of thought and feeling. Perhaps this is what attracts me to the tradition of praying the O Antiphons.


“Reflecting on the words and images prepares us to let Christ himself enter into us…We are all an image, an icon, of God. It is our task to become ever more like this unique image of God.”

Anselm Grün, A Time of Fulfillment: Spiritual Reflections for Advent and Christmas

The O Antiphons use images to help us envision the Christ we long for, and to draw us into a more profound connection to the God of history. “In the O-Antiphons the art of interpreting Old Testament text as images for the coming of Jesus Christ into the world becomes apparent.” (Anselm Grün) The repeated word “Come!” expresses our deepest longing for Christ. When we accept that we are not God, we yearn for fulfillment, for all that a Messiah can bring, not just in the hereafter but in the here and now. We long for wisdom, freedom, hope, peace, belonging, light, healing, salvation, dignity, protection, love, and accompaniment. Each of these longings is addressed in the O Antiphons.

For an extensive examination of our longings and the use of images in praying the O Antiphons, I highly recommend A Time of Fulfillment by Anselm Grün, a Benedictine monk from Münsterschwarzach Abbey, the motherhouse of the monastery of which I am an oblate.

Feel free to download and share any of the images in this reflection, or follow Being Benedictine on Facebook to share daily posts. Join the monks of St. John’s Abbey for each of the O Antiphons as Benedictine monks have done for 1300 years.

St. John’s Abbey sings O Antiphons: Holy Wisdom—

December 17th – O Sapientia (O Wisdom)
December 18th – O Adonai (O Lord)
Continue reading “O Antiphons: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!” →
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Naming the Darkness Within: An Advent Reflection

December 2025 Oblate Reflections

Presentation Leader: Fr. Jim Secora – Advent “He is Coming”

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” (Isaiah 9:2)

We seek the light. In total darkness, our eyes can see a single point of light up to 5 miles away. This is the lesson of Advent, shared by Fr. Jim Secora, a retired priest and Benedictine oblate. We must accept the darkness, become comfortable with it, and not run from it. We must confront the darkness in the world and from within.

We live in a generation of darkness, as many generations before us have. There is much suffering—with refugees, immigrants, those lacking good health care, those who cannot afford necessities, who are sick, or have personal suffering. Advent calls us to confront the darkness. We cannot appreciate the light around us until we do.

Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, is a reminder of the joy we have and of the joy to come. The light of Christ is here and is coming—both are true. Miracles happen every day when we pay attention.

The fear of uncertainty, the unknown, leads to personal darkness. Even Jesus felt it. And he faced it head-on. We must practice trusting, letting go, and sitting in discomfort. If we don’t have an opportunity to see the need for light in our lives, why do we need Christmas? Fr. Jim suggests.

In small groups, we shared our personal experiences in response to the following questions—

1. Name the experiences of darkness that you find in the world, the church, the lives of people, and if only if you are comfortable, any area of darkness that you have or are experiencing. Where or when have you experienced light piercing the darkness?

2. The people of Israel sought out John because he offered them a vision of salvation. Where in the life of the world do you see the need for a savior? Where in my life, do I need to experience a rebirth of Jesus and his gift of salvation?

3. What is the star you are following now? And where is that star in its present radiance in your life leading you?

Much of our personal darkness comes from a feeling of helplessness. We want our discomfort relieved, our problems fixed. We live in a cloud of doubt and uncertainty, where we can’t “fix it” and no one else can “fix it” for us either. We forget that often the fear of the unknown may be worse than the reality that may be to come. But this presents the question: What do we trust in?

During my greatest fear, waiting for a life-changing health diagnosis, I experienced this desperation. And the only answer, the only peace is to trust in the breath of the Divine. Taking one deep breath at a time, I was more aware of the connection to the greater Source of peace. The breath prayer is the start of a surrendering practice, a continual turning it over to God, a reminder that we cannot assume to know how things will turn out or that we know what is best. This spiritual practice is impossible without humility.

“We have made ourselves the love of our lives and found little to adore at the altar of our egos. We have made ourselves our own gods and have forgotten God in the process…Joy, the deep-down awareness of what it means to live well, to live productively, to live righteously, is made out of self-giving, simplicity, and other-centeredness…Joy is not about what happens to us, the manger indicates. It is the meaning we give to what we do that determines the nature, the quality of the lives we live.”

-Joan Chittister, The Liturgical Year

It takes humility to surrender our “me” to “we.” We need a redemption of me. The stars we can follow are trust, acceptance, joy, and peace. Practicing gratitude for the present moment, finding peace, joy, and strength in whatever situation we are in, not wishing that we were somewhere else. Our star is directly above our present moment.

More reflections on Advent.

The Light Shines in the Darkness

Holy Darkness: An Advent Meditation

You Are A Sanctuary for the Divine ~ Sprigs of Rosemary Online Advent Retreat

An Advent Call of Humility: Mary and Zechariah

Flood the World with Love: An Antidote to Darkness

© Jodi Blazek Gehr, Being Benedictine Blogger

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Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Sacred Mother

Mary, the quintessential mother, emerges in many of my collage creations. On the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, December 12, I am reminded how Mother Mary appears in many forms across religions and cultures. She brings visions and messages uniquely tailored to those who receive them, like Juan Diego.

On the site of an ancient shrine to the Aztec mother goddess, on Tepeyac Hill near Mexico City, a young Nahuatl Indian named Juan Diego had a vision of a young Indian woman. Speaking in his native tongue, she directed him to take roses to the bishop and tell him to build a church on the hill. The bishop dismissed the story, but the young maiden appeared to Diego once more, identifying herself as the Mother of God. She instructed him to gather roses that grew at her feet, during the winter no less, and take them to the bishop. When Diego opened his coat, roses tumbled out and a colorful impression of Our Lady, with dark skin, was imprinted on the fabric.

“My dearest son, I am the eternal Virgin Mary, Mother of the true God, Author of Life, Creator of all and Lord of the Heavens and of the Earth.”

Our Lady of Guadalupe to St. Juan Diego on Mount Tepayac, 1531

This story has been told for five hundred years, standing as an “image of divine compassion for a demoralized people. Speaking to Juan Diego in his own language, (Mary) presented herself in terms of compassion and solidarity, not power and domination.” (Blessed Among Us, December 12, 2020) The image of Our Lady attracts millions of pilgrims each year at the basilica in Mexico City, one of the world’s most visited sacred sites.

One of the Mary cards I created during a Full Moon retreat with anam caras, women friends on the spiritual journey, features Our Lady of Guadalupe and her role in the life of all women, particularly those who are marginalized and suffering. In the upper left corner is an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe, framed by roses that bloomed out of season.  Our Lady watches over us—Mother of the Universe, outside time and space. Whether you call her Tonantzin, “Sacred Mother” in Nahuatl, the language of Juan Diego, or Holy Mother, Mother Mary, the Mother of God, or the Virgin Mary, she offers a divine motherly love and protection available to all. Mary empowers women to give that same love and compassion to others.

Continue reading “Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Sacred Mother” →
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Gratitude or Grumbling: A Thanksgiving Choice

November 2025 Oblate Reflections

“Do not grumble or think ill of others.” (Rule of St. Benedict Ch. 4:39)

What is the key to practicing gratitude rather than grumbling? How can we live a grateful life in the midst of pain and suffering, our own, that of others, and that of the world around us? Is it possible to be thankful for challenging experiences?

We use the Rule of St. Benedict and Scripture to address these questions at our November oblate meeting. We opened our meeting with the Welcome Prayer written by Fr. Thomas Keating).

If we truly practice this prayer to welcome all of the above, we find that the benefit of grumbling is minimal. In fact, grumbling is self-sabotage. The benefit of welcoming everything is that through the moments of distress, unease, discomfort, or suffering, we learn that another way could be a blessing. What can be difficult about the Welcome Prayer is the “letting go” of our control—and oh my, how much we prefer when things go our way.

St. Benedict has a few things to say about grumbling, a form of letting go of our own gripes, opinions, and negativity for the greater good of the community and ultimately our own selves. He encourages his monks to cultivate humility, patience, and a joyful acceptance of their station in life. It requires a surrender of pride to be content even when it is challenging to be.

We read the following excerpts and practice Lectio Divina as a group, sharing the insights we gained.

Continue reading “Gratitude or Grumbling: A Thanksgiving Choice” →
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