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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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My Story of The Okoboji Writers’ Retreat

Growing up in Nebraska, I was always a little jealous of the families who vacationed every summer at Lake Okoboji. It seemed like something people of means and importance did—going to the same place each year because it was so fantastic and familiar, renewing connections made the year before.

I was certainly impressed by the stories I heard. And it was storytelling that took me to Lake Okoboji for the first time in my 59-year-old life for the Okoboji Writers’ and Songwriters’ Retreat.

With countless ideas for creative writing projects, I took my grown-up self, with memories of keeping childhood diaries, attending high school journalism camp, and writing for the Daily Nebraskan in college, to explore the dream of writing a book. In my adult years, I have filled hundreds of journal pages, written nineteen chapters for a potential book, and shared 269 blog post reflections at Being Benedictine. I am SO excited about what I learned at the Okoboji Writer’s Retreat, which will help guide me in my next steps. I will be long impacted by the creativity, gratitude, humor, music, enthusiasm, political discussions, inspiration, spontaneous mentoring, and connections formed at OWR.

Some deep-in-my-soul takeaways:

Continue reading “My Story of The Okoboji Writers’ Retreat” →
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A Story Behind Everything

“However well satisfied you are with your own skill or intelligence,
never forget how much there is that remains unknown to you.”
-Imitation of Christ, Thomas à Kempis

There’s so much we don’t know, so much we don’t see, so much we can’t understand. There is a story behind everything.

On a recent country drive, I stumbled upon a cemetery I had never seen before. It was an old cemetery surrounded by, likely, the original iron fence and arched gate.

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I find the old gate breathtaking: the rust over the exquisite spirals and twists on the finials and posts; the contrast of brown and green grasses; the juxtaposition of birth and death, new and old, all at once. I wonder: How many people have passed through that gate? How many tears shed at the graves of loved ones?  I wonder when flowers were last placed on a grave.

The gate remains locked now, and instead, a simpler entrance and a few graveled paths intersect to help visitors find their beloved. Only symbolic now, the fence and gate remain part of this sacred site and its story.

Capture

I continue my journey for miles down a country road, passing no houses, or people, or other cars–truly, a solitary journey. In a wooded area, I notice several old vehicles behind the limbs and brush, so easily missed that I turned around at the next intersection to drive by again. Taking a closer look from many angles and directions, I photographed the old truck. I wondered when it’s dying day had come and it was left to become part of the landscape. When had it last been driven to town? How many children had ridden in the back of the truck, wind blowing in their hair, or perhaps more recently, used it as a jungle gym? Continue reading “A Story Behind Everything” →

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