Finding My Way Back to Source: A Lenten Reflection

In the quiet aftermath of Ash Wednesday, with the cross still fresh upon my brow, Divine Providence led me to an unexpected sanctuary. Following the solemn service, I found myself sharing coffee with fellow parishioners before attending Fr. Don's lecture on N.T. Wright's "Paul: A Biography." The Lord works in mysterious ways, guiding our footsteps when we least expect it.

During conversation with a brother in Christ, St. John's Cathedral in Brisbane emerged as our topic. I shared how I've come to see it as the "mothership" of churches—a sacred vessel connected to all parishes throughout the diocese. There's something profoundly mystical about that space for me. While some seek deeper spiritual connection there, I visit seeking direct communion with the Almighty for guidance on earthly matters—work tasks, studies, and discernment of my vocation. The cathedral becomes a thin place where heaven's whispers seem more audible.

Recently, the Spirit has led me back to my family home, closing one chapter as a relationship ended. My former partner often questioned the time I devoted to my family and church, yet I've come to understand this return as a pilgrimage to my "source." There is holy wisdom in returning to our origins—a sacred alchemy happens when we revisit our beginnings. Sometimes the Lord calls us back to where we started to receive new revelation, to heal, to remember. In examining old photographs, videos, and memories, we rediscover the essence of who we are in Christ.

This return to source mirrors our relationship with the Creator—the Great I Am, the wellspring of all life. Through His grace, we find the courage to change course, to navigate toward new horizons He has prepared for us. As I write, a cyclone approaches our city of the Gold Coast. There is profound symbolism in being sheltered at home with loved ones and good books as the winds gather strength. In these moments of anticipation, the Holy Spirit invites reflection—a divine pause before nature's display of power. The storms of life, both literal and figurative, often carry us to new shores of stillness and understanding.

Today I borrowed a book on cultivating inner calm—another breadcrumb on my path of formation. The Lord has been showing me that I must distance myself from chaotic energies and align with the tranquility that Christ exemplifies. A priest carries this sacred calm—not a timid spirit, but a soul anchored in the peace that surpasses understanding. My physical training strengthens my body, but meditation practices will anchor my spirit for the chapter ahead.

This evening, I also rediscovered a great resource called Defence Against the Dark Arts by Rev. Dr. Jo Inkpin which was particularly helpful. It includes the "Let Go" exercise on page 4, inspired by Sirius Black’s words, “The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.” This practice involves clenching and releasing each part of your body while focusing on deep breathing. It’s a simple yet effective way to release tension and find calm. As Lao Tzu said, “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.”

My professional life stands at a crossroads as well. Recent challenges suggest that the Lord may be preparing me for a new role or perhaps calling me back to study. There remains formation work to be done, more emptying of self in the pattern of Christ's kenosis. These forty days of Lent provide the perfect wilderness for this emptying, this surrender to divine calling.

May the Lord bless your Lenten journey as we walk together toward Easter transformation. In this sacred time, may we all find our way back to Source, allowing Christ to reshape us according to His perfect will.

Glory be to God, now and forever. Amen.