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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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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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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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Wonder At The Art Museum

It was a joy to spend the day with kindred spirits at The Joslyn, an art museum in Omaha, Nebraska, discussing art, creativity, life, aging, grief, family, and more.

“All art is a terrific bridge…Music, paintings, words, they really do speak to the soul, to the heart, to the spirit…” -Julia Cameron

Conversation with loved ones requires little effort, but time with Nancy and Marilyn was enhanced by the insights from the art pieces that drew us in. We easily transitioned from discussing art techniques to our own creative projects, from religious and contemporary art to our own spirituality and religious traditions, and from what the artist might have felt or intended to convey to our own feelings and responses to life’s challenges. Skipping from one topic to the next, which might not have made much sense to onlookers, made perfect sense to us.

When I started leading SoulFully You retreats at St. Benedict Center, Nancy and Marilyn, my dad’s first cousins, were some of my first participants. I am so grateful that we reconnected and get together a few times a year. My memories of them were mainly as a child, and now we are good friends.

“Viewing art activates the dopamine network in the brain…people’s minds open to wonder: they demonstrate greater creativity, inspiration, problem-solving abilities, and openness to others’ perspectives. Art empowers our saintly tendencies.“ –Dacher Keltner, Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life

Sharing some of the art and insights that filled our day with wonder, I hope to inspire an in-person or online visit to an art museum or your own creative project, such as SoulCollage.

Continue reading “Wonder At The Art Museum” →
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Be The Light: A 4th of July Message

“To be human is to live by sunlight and moonlight, with anxiety and delight, admitting limits and transcending them, falling down and rising up. To want a life with only half of these things in it is to want half a life, shutting the other half away where it will not interfere with one’s bright fantasies of the way things ought to be.” -Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

Light and dark are the colors of life. No life is ever all of one or all of the other.

This is evident for many of us this 4th of July, the day we celebrate the independence of the United States of America. As daylight fades and darkness falls upon us, we gather in city parks and neighborhood driveways to witness crackling explosions, brilliant bursts of light, and glittering sparks as they cascade through the skies.

Fireworks can evoke a variety of feelings—from excitement, pride, and awe to anxiety, fear, and disbelief. I enjoy the displays but abhor the loud sounds. I think of shuddering dogs hiding under beds and the trauma that veterans may experience. I consider how much money is spent on fireworks that could be used in so many ways to help others. Still, with conflicted feelings, I watch and wonder.

To live in this country, to live in my body, is to face the realities of light and darkness. I have ideas of what democracy looks like, what the ideal is (see The Pledge of Allegiance of My Heart here). But I acknowledge that America is a work in progress, just as I am. Holding the tension between what is reality and what is our hope is a challenge. How do we stay present to the suffering in our souls and the world without losing the light inside?

 This, my dear, is the greatest challenge to being alive: to witness the injustice of this world, and not allow it to consume our light.’       – Thich Nhat Hanh

Continue reading “Be The Light: A 4th of July Message” →
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Ooh, I Wonder

Ooh, I wonder
What is to come, out of this darkness
I’ve been moving moving moving moving through the darkness…
I wonder when the light is cracking open..
(Wonder by S. Nutting/ K. Longaker)

The first verse to the song Wonder by Ma’Muse poses questions about the “dark night of the soul” that most of us experience at some point in our lives. Whether it is melancholy, depression, fear, or grief that grips us, we wonder: When is this going to end? What is going to come out of this darkness? What comes next? When will we see relief from our suffering? When will there be more light than dark?

The song continues.

I thought this candle had long gone out…
But today today today today I can see
There’s still a flickering flickering

Today I saw a flickering, just a little light cracking open, after some weeks of darkness.

I had just finished reading a new poem from Ana Lisa de Jong, when Wonder came up in my Spotify playlist. The poem, Ceaseless Wonders, offers insights into when light may come.

CEASELESS WONDERS
Wonders never cease,
while we are sleeping
or awake in rumination
wonders are not ceasing
Wonders will not cease
until wonders are not needed,
meanwhile wonders are the signpost
to the Wonderful.
Wonders in the breath,
which has exhaled us into being,
and wonder in the
breath that keeps us living.
Wonder in the breath
of the fresh new morning,
the birds who sing of the
restoration of creation.
Wonders will not cease
while time keeps unfolding.
Time left ahead
assures us of wonder’s returning.
And wonders never cease
as darkness precedes the morning,
the morning star
points us to light’s dawning,
and the rounding sun,
which hardly falters in its momentum,
though wonders seem far flung
and courage is ebbing.

-Ana Lisa de Jong, Living Tree Poetry, February 2025

The synchronistic moment of the song and poem coming together was itself, a glimpse of light, my 2025 word of the year. Experiencing synchronicity is a holy surprise, an inkling of something more, a nudge to pay attention, to look and listen deeply. Perhaps this is a glimpse, a reminder, that darkness will pass with time because darkness always precedes the morning. Wonders will not cease/while time keeps unfolding. Time left ahead/assures us of wonder’s returning.

During this time of darkness, wonders never cease, are not ceasing, will not cease. The wonder is our breath. We can use our breath as prayer—the literal inhale and exhale, that takes us from one moment to the next, from this day to the next, from night into morning. We continue to

Burn burn burn burn on the inside
Burn burn burn burning like a bright light
Burn burn burn burn on the inside
This light’s still burning, burning bright
I thought this candle had long gone out…
but today i can see, there’s more than a flickering

Our longing for hope, peace, and light becomes the prayer. And in times of darkness, our purpose is not to question our lack of courage or hope, but instead to bring wonder as fuel to burn like a bright light, to keep the flame alive. Yes, I wonder and I wonder.

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The Longest Night

The winter solstice is the precise moment when the sun is situated exactly over the Tropic of Capricorn, seemingly at a standstill. The word solstice is derived from the Latin word sol, meaning sun, and sisterre, meaning standstill. We know that time does not really stand still, but time is a marker, an occasion of turning from and turning towards. This moment cannot be contained, sustained, or paused. Time is motion; it marches on.

There are moments in our lives when our great darkness feels interminable, infinite, beyond, and outside of time. “In the interior wintertime, we can easily lose heart, stop believing in our goodness, forget about our resilience, and discount the presence of those who love us. There is often sadness, loneliness, and a depletion of joy. This is the season of grief and depression, of searching and struggle.” (The Circle of Life: The Hearts Journey Through the Seasons, Joyce Rupp & Macrina Wiederkehr) It can be reassuring that just as the astronomical start to winter begins, the solstice gives way to longer days and the darkness will yield to a promised light. So we hope with us.

Continue reading “The Longest Night” →
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Easter: Embracing Light and Darkness

“We love to think of Easter as the feast of dazzling light. We get up on Easter Sunday morning knowing that the sorrow of Good Friday is finally ended… that Jesus is vindicated, that the faith of the disciples is confirmed for all to see, and that everyone lived happily ever after. We love fairy tales. Unfortunately, Easter is not one of them.” (Joan Chittister)

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During the Holy Triduum, we remember the events leading up to Easter. Each Holy Day is significant to the fullness of Jesus’ story—his life, death, and resurrection. Jesus’ life was full of joy—learning, teaching, helping others, growing in his authentic identity, and embracing his essence—but, also, as the Gospel of John poignantly states, “Jesus wept.” Even Jesus could not escape his own suffering—the death of a friend, concern for political and religious corruption, the betrayal of his disciples, his own physical persecution, and, finally, his fear of abandonment, that he had been forgotten by God and everyone. No doubt about it, Jesus experienced both joy and suffering.

Jesus’ life is an archetype for our own spiritual journey. There is nothing that happens in our lives that Jesus didn’t also experience. When we live out our own Good Fridays, mini-deaths that bring us face to face with darkness, we know we are not alone. We may feel betrayed by loved ones, blamed for problems we didn’t create, forsaken by those we trust. We grieve the loss of loved ones and lament our own mistakes. We are depressed or sad.

Our Holy Saturday is a time of waiting, enduring or resting, perhaps a respite from problems, a time when we can separate from our pain for moments, even days at a time. In the tomb, we wait for healing. Perhaps, we allow others to mourn with us and wait with us in hope. Our waiting is a gray space of in-between.

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This darkness is not what we want—and anytime we experience something unwanted, or conversely don’t get what we do want, we live in some shade of darkness. Truth be told, we simply want peace and joy. We don’t want to be patient, to feel bad, to hurt. There are times when we cling to the darkness and choose to stay in a place of suffering, but we can both honor the darkness while looking towards a glimmer of light, to Easter. Continue reading “Easter: Embracing Light and Darkness” →

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