“Everything in this world—every quark, atom, dust speck, heartbeat—quivers with the presence of God and is the presence of God…a kind of fourth dimension to all of life.”
-Thomas Keating: The Making of a Modern Christian Mystic by Cynthia Bourgeault
I find this divine quivering in the creative process of SoulCollage®, writing, planning retreats, deep listening with kindred spirits, reading good books and poetry, and in this season, beholding the beauty of springtime in the shimmering of every conceivable shade of green.
The presence of God quivers especially in the holy surprise of synchronicities, often referred to as a “thin place” by the Celts. Just minutes after creating a SoulCollage® card titled Tree of Life, I stumbled upon the most perfect poem.
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.
Recently I shared this image and quote attributed to St. Hildegard of Bingen:
The quote and image so resonated with me, that I shared it on my Being Benedictine Facebook page. Just as I was posting it, two finches, as seen in the image, landed just a few feet away near the birdfeeder I received as a Mother’s Day gift, hung just the day before. (For more on my love of birdwatching, see Birds Are Still My Prayer.)
I love synchronicities like this, little holy surprises—the same birds, the same colors, the same postures, at the same moment I shared the image. It’s a whoa, you-need-to-pay-attention kind of moment. Curious, I began a deeper dive into what context Hildegard had made the statement.
I love Hildegard. I was enthralled with my visit to the Abbey of St. Hildegardin Germany on pilgrimage in 2019. I love that she was a 12th-century mover and shaker, truly a woman who used her voice. Hildegard, a German Benedictine nun, was a mystic and theologian, prophet and artist, poet, playwright and composer, healer, naturalist, and pharmacist. She became a Benedictine abbess, was both challenged and received affirmation from church clergy, bishops, and popes, moved her monastery of sisters to be independent of the male monastery, and, throughout her life, had visions of the Divine that she was reluctant, but ultimately encouraged, to share in writing.
But spoiler alert: The quote in the image is NOT a direct quote from St. Hildegard. It is from an article written ABOUT Hildegard. Here is some context I discovered that contains (closely) the quote from the shared image:
“We often look to someone like Hildegard or to other great people throughout the ages as if what they have is not ours to have; we admire them, honor them, study them. We want to make use of them, and we allow them to consummate our inner light for us. We allow them to be the still point of our turning world. We feel incapable, yet the world wants to infuse us and to be infused by us. At that point no one can help us, not angels, not men, not Hildegard, not Jung, not Rilke. We cannot live securely in a world which is not our own, in a world which is interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a home. Part of the terror is to take back our own listening, to put our ears to our own inner voices, to see our own light, which is our birthright, and comes to us in silence.” (Source: Hildegard of Bingen, Warrior of Light, Elaine Bellezza, Gnosis magazine, vol 21, 1991)
The quote, incorrectly attributed to Hildegard of Bingen in sermons, social media posts, and even books, has been widely shared. There is no doubt that the image and quote need to be attributed correctly—to Elaine Bellezza not Hildegard of Bingen.
Synchronicities may seem like a rarity, but especially on retreat, it feels like these holy surprises happen often. Someone shares a story that resonates with another; an image appears just when one is seeking it; a deeper meaning is discovered creating a SoulCollage®card. There is an inkling of something more, a sense of being very near to the “thin place,” buoyed and embraced by the Divine. I wonder, do these moments actually happen more often than we notice?
Recently on retreat, our opening prayer invited us to be grateful for “moments of synchronicity and holy surprise.” Mary, Queen of Angels, a blessing from Birthing the Holy: Wisdom from Mary to Nurture Creativity and Renewal by Christine Valters Painter, prompted a discussion on synchronicity.
Marilyn, who has been to many retreats over the last several years (and is also my dad’s first cousin…another serendipitous story) was curious about the definition, so we looked it up:
Simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related, YES! But rather than events having “no discernible causal connection,” I think of synchronicities as connections seen with the inner eye. They are holy coincidences. Both mysterious and meaningful, these holy surprises open our eyes in new ways. The voice of synchronicity encourages us to be aware, to look and listen deeply. Throughout our retreat, we enjoyed identifying these many moments with an exuberant, “That’s synchronicity!”
A few days after our retreat, when we were all back to our daily life, I received a card in the mail from Marilyn. She had written, “I hope the picture on this card brings you a moment of serenity.”
Indeed, it did, and a giddy feeling of serendipity! I love the image on the card so much that some twenty years ago I purchased a signed and numbered canvas of it titled “Pages of Time” by Gene Roncka and it is hanging in my kitchen!
Smiling in amazement, and yet not as surprised anymore when synchronicities occur, I took a photo of both and sent a message to Marilyn. She responded, “This is absolutely surreal. And I think it may be synchronicity.
I forwarded the photo to our retreat group with the message— “Can you say synchronicity?”
C.J. Jung, who popularized the term synchronicity, believed that life was not just a series of random events. Waking up to meaningful coincidences, he said, “could shift our thinking so we recognize a greater wholeness in all of creation…It could precipitate a spiritual awakening.”
There are so many invisible forces and connections weaving a web that holds us in its grace. The more we look, the more we see. It is only with eyes open to wonder, holy surprises, and synchronicity that we experience the humbling and awesome fall to our knees. There we are uplifted by invisible forces and surrounded by angels who “walk among us in seen and unseen forms.” In these moments, we see new pathways and possibilities. I agree with Brian McLaren who said “The closest thing to God is when we say WOW!” Holding tight to this knowing sustains us when our faith is not as strong or challenges present themselves.
I used the Pages in Time card from Marilyn to create a SoulCollage card I titled “Sit A Spell.”
“You who sing among the angels, help us to feel their sheltering and guiding presence in our days. Reveal to us all the ways we are held, comforted, uplifted by invisible forces; remind us to call out for help when needed and to lean into the grace so freely offered to us. Let us see how angels walk among us in seen and unseen forms; encourage us to offer gratitude for moments of synchronicity and holy surprise when we are met with kindness and sacred possibility, when we see a new pathway where before was only bramble. Mary, Queen of Angels…help us to know you walk beside us always.” -Christine Valters Painter
Being Benedictine 