I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day. 

—Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day”

In the Celtic Christian imagination, the phrase “thin place” is used to describe a place or occurrence in which the divide between heaven and earth feels nearly dissolved—as if the veil were so thin that you could reach through and brush the very fabric of heaven with your fingertips. I’ve felt this in hospital rooms, when loved ones were hovering between life and death. . .a sense of heaven kissing earth, letting us know it will all be alright. The ‘thinnest’ place in the natural world I’ve encountered is Connemara National Park in the northwest corner of Ireland. There’s something for me there about the way the light plays upon rugged hills like a paintbrush, how waterfalls gush from the sides of mountains like honey from a rock, how the sheep roam wild and free, munching grips of wildflowers as if this were the only daily bread they’ll ever need. Such a place is a feast for the eyes, affirming what the soul has always known: God is here. Heaven is near.

I’m writing to share good news:

My friend Keith wrote a book called Thin Places that is full of goodness, beauty, and truth, and it is available now. I had the honor and deep joy of collaborating with him by creating a Visio Divina image for contemplation at the end of each chapter.

Creating these images was, for me, its own thin space. Something about being given the freedom to create according to the Spirit caused me to be filled with joy as I wove together the pieces of what became six spiritual icons. Hours would pass, and I wouldn’t be aware of it because the act of creating had swept me just a few inches up off the ground and that much closer to heaven.

In this book, Keith proposes a rather daring but hauntingly beautiful question:

What if the next thin space God wants us to encounter is as close as the person sitting next to us on the bus, across the table from us, or the little one on our lap? What if we don’t have to travel as far as we might think to find the thin spaces in which we encounter the all-consuming love of the Trinity in a unique and intimate way?

I trust and affirm the invitations Keith offers his fellow pilgrims over the 6-week prayer journey into which he invites his readers. Such invitations provide rest for the soul, and yet they stir us to lean in and run, walk, soar deeper into Kingdom discoveries. Perhaps prayer, too, is as close and as simple as our next breath, sounding something like this: Dear God, very near, help me to pay attention.

As we keep watch and pray, may God’s kingdom come and will be done in each of our lives here on earth, as in heaven.

Learn more about Keith’s work and find the book here!

View my designs here!