The Sacred Space of Life

I do a good bit of traveling these days for work, and last week found me in the great state of Illinois. I’ve recently become a huge fan of audio books. Being able to actually get some reading done while driving is well, perfect. Though there is always the issue with the narrator. I have a slight admission, on long driving stretches, I really enjoy the sometimes corny, and over eccentric voice of a narrator. Last week though, I found no such voice, but rather Barack Obama’s voice as he narrated, Dreams From My Father. Now I know there may be some of you out there that are rolling your eyes at the fact that I waited to listen to this particular audio book until I was in “the great state of Illinois”. I understand that, and I honestly thought about this fact, but my inner nerd only reinforced my decision. As I drove the highways of Illinois, through her corn fields, and around her wind turbines, Barack’s voice boomed in the rented Prius as he told the stories of his life.


If any of you out there have read the book, then you may agree with me, maybe not. It is simply amazing that Barack is our President. It is truly amazing that a man with this story is now the President of the United States. As I fed the radio, CD after CD I found myself thinking how incredible this was, and I also realized how often I said, AMEN!

As you can tell, I loved the book. I loved hearing the stories that have made up Barack Obama’s life. The stories from his childhood, to the stories of community organizing, and then to the stories of Kenya. I loved hearing Barack reflect on his life in real and honest ways, inviting us as readers into those stories, and thus into his life in some way. Albeit, selective ways. As I heard the stories, I heard the rawness of life, and I was reminded that story makes up our lives, though our narratives may be different. One thing was clear from Barack’s words, the people that helped make up his narrative, the ones who influenced and challenged him along the way were important, if not critical to his life’s work.

I couldn’t help but hear his story and think of the countless other stories I had heard that week. Stories of how folks have been encountered by God in different ways, and how they have reflected back over those encounters and felt a real call to ministry, or other vocations. It is in the midst of our everyday lives that God is at work, and somehow the regular, mundaneness of it all our lives become something greater, something shall I say, sacred. Even when we seem to miss it, or when we are so busy not to even notice God’s work, we look back over our lives only to see where God has been at work. For me, I seem to remember this after I hear others stories.

While I was Vanderbilt University last month, I participated in worship with their Presbyterian Campus Ministry. During worship they had a time in which one person shared their faith journey, their “story”. The student who told his story that night, told of a faith that was hard to put into words, but a faith that had led him to campus ministry at Vanderbilt. He told of a family that was supportive, but also broken. He talked about faith as well as doubt. His story was dirty, broken, and real. He was thankful for a place where he could just come and be himself. A place where he could bring his faith as well as his doubts. A place where he could bring his story, bring all that made him who he was.

That time during worship that night was deeply personal, it was messy, and it was sacred. I was thankful to have heard his story that night. I believe as we continue to share our stories with one another, as we continue to dig into the everyday, and as we begin to reflect on the many ways we encounter God we understand the very space of our lives as sacred space.


I know that this may seem like a very simple idea, and it is. I believe it is even common sense to have people that surround us so we can have these conversations. In a time in which we are pulling money and staff positions in the PCUSA from College Ministry and Chaplaincies, it seems it may not be common, but rather be uncommon sense.

I am thankful to have participated in ministry on College and University Campuses, and seen how God is at work in and through these ministries. I am thankful for those who enter into conversations to reflect, not to answer. I am thankful for those who seek to help us claim the sacred space that is our lives.

It is truly amazing that our lives are what they are, a series of experiences with many different people in a certain time and certain space. It is amazing how the same Spirit who is at work in you, me, your friends, is also at work in Christ. The God who has knit us in our mothers womb, and loves us to no end, has given us each gifts and has called each one of us. Let us be a people who seek out God on the journey.

This week I ask that we do something in the comments section below, first- please feel free to leave your comments, they are always welcome! Second, let us give thanks for those who have sat with us along the way and engaged us in the hard/fruitful conversations that make up our lives. Third, let us also recognize those among us who's stories are not heard. Let us not discount those "voices who have been long silenced." Go out and sit, dwell, listen, care!