Come to Me, All You Who Are Weary

On spiritual hunger, a prayer for wisdom and finding rest in Christ.

Maybe it’s because I’m going through ‘the change’. Maybe it’s because I’m about to have a total hip replacement. Or perhaps I’ve been around the proverbial spiritual block and helped myself to the spiritual buffet once too often.

Whatever the combination of reasons, I’m tired. And beneath all that sampling, studying and seeking, I’ve realised that I’m hungry too.

Spiritually malnourished, even.

Maybe you are too?

There is something exhausting about continuing to look for nourishment when you already have a house full of books, years of practice behind you and a reasonably impressive vocabulary for describing the soul.

Eventually, I had to admit that I needed help.

A Prayer for Wisdom

Earlier this year, I looked at the bulk of my work and realised that I lacked wisdom.

That was uncomfortable after so many years of writing, reading and helping others reflect on their lives. Nevertheless, it was honest.

So I humbled myself and prayed for wisdom.

The good book invites us to do precisely that. In James 1:5, those who lack wisdom are encouraged to ask God, who gives generously and without reproach.

I find that last part particularly comforting.

What followed was a winding journey through philosophy and theurgy. My questions about virtue, the soul and spiritual practice led me through Hekate, Sophia and, increasingly, Mother Mary.

Along the way, I recognised my longing for relationship with God. Even the books I was beginning to move beyond helped me realise that I wanted to love Him more than I wanted spiritual power.

The Name I Called in Pain

In August, acute hip pain took me to hospital. During bouts of stabbing pain that were a 9 on a scale of 10, I found myself calling out to Jesus.

Jesus Kristus.

In Swedish. My mother tongue.

After everything I had studied and practised, His was the name I called when I was frightened and hurting.

I wanted His help. I wanted to be held in a love I could trust. And I recognised how much I still longed for Jesus as Saviour: for love, forgiveness, mercy and the hope of healing.

Looking back, I can see how that moment began to change my trajectory. Gradually, I became more honest with myself about my needs and felt less pressure to appear to have all the answers.

September and the Seven Sorrows

In September, I felt drawn to honour Mary as Our Lady of Sorrows. The first time I prayed the Seven Sorrows Rosary, a flood of tears came.

Through those tears, I recognised my heart’s longing to belong fully to her. Soon afterwards, I understood that belonging to Mary meant belonging to her Son.

There was also a longing for the unity of all God’s children. My heart wanted to love across the boundaries we draw around ourselves.

As I continued with the Seven Sorrows and the Rosary, I longed for prayer, Scripture, worship and church life. Mary’s faithful presence through suffering helped me bring my own grief into prayer.

Gradually, prayer was reaching places that thinking alone had never managed to reach.

Loved Enough to Change

This morning, while meditating on the Nativity during the Rosary, I was overcome by a sense of God’s love for me.

I had prayed to experience that love. And there, contemplating Christ’s birth, I felt it.

Perhaps that is why I finally feel brave enough to change the direction of my work.

I have closed my Tarot reading services. Angelorum is moving in a Christian and Marian direction, reflecting the life of prayer that nourishes me now.

I want to move with the Spirit of Love and allow that love to shape what I write, what I offer and how I serve.

Where Tarot Fits Now

I am still comfortable using Tarot for contemplation, and I am keeping my decks.

The cards can offer images to sit with, questions to consider and opportunities for honest reflection. That remains valuable to me.

However, Tarot is becoming a quieter presence in my practice. My attention is increasingly drawn towards Scripture, the Rosary, worship and the ordinary work of living my faith.

Closing my reading services reflects that change in emphasis. My relationship with the cards has room to change too.

So, for anyone wondering: the decks are staying. They simply have a less central place in my spiritual life.

Finding a Church Home

I am still looking for a church home, and I value worshipping and sharing Communion with other Christians.

For a short while, I explored seeking reconciliation with the Catholic Church. However, the paperwork and sheer bureaucracy involved in my particular circumstances feel overwhelming at this stage. I have set that process aside for now.

Perhaps that pause is for the best. It gives me room to listen and grow without rushing to resolve every question of belonging.

My deepest home is with God. That belonging reaches beyond any church building, denomination or group of people.

When I was younger, religion formed a large part of my identity. Now, I feel less need to shape myself around one denomination’s expectations. I also recognise how easily joining the ‘right’ religion can encourage an ‘us and them’ mentality, and I want to guard against that in myself.

The longing I felt during the Seven Sorrows remains: to love, and to pray for the unity of all believers.

Rest for the Weary

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28, NRSVue

That invitation has become personal.

My body still needs surgery. I still have questions and ordinary responsibilities. Yet the Christian faith is where I currently find the deepest rest and nourishment.

The Rosary gives my prayer a rhythm. Scripture gives me something to return to. Christ gives my seeking a centre.

I am learning to receive care and allow myself to be loved while there is still so much to learn.

Room for the Whole Journey

I am not sitting in judgment on my past or on anyone else’s path.

I can look back with tenderness towards the woman who searched so widely. She was trying to find truth, healing and a way to live well. Those years, and the people who shared them, belong to my story.

Equally, your journey belongs to you. You are welcome here whether you share my faith, are curious, or are wondering what on earth Lisa is doing now.

Angelorum’s new chapter will make room for Christian mysticism, prayer, the Saints, Marian devotion and the gentle rhythm of the liturgical year. I will review the older archive gradually.

If you are tired too, bring your questions, your complicated history and whatever small hope you have.

I will be here with my beads, my Bible, my decks and a hip shortly due for a substantial upgrade.

For now, I am learning to rest in the love I have spent so long seeking.