This spiritual direction meeting was different. I arrived as usual for my monthly visit with my spiritual director. Instead of sitting in a chair, she invited me for a walk around the neighborhood. It was spring, and I had been fretting about how to finance going to graduate school in theology in the fall.

My spiritual director asked some standard questions, “Where is God in the resistance?” and “What’s happening in your prayer life?” She listened attentively to my responses. Then she did something atypical. She invited me to walk very slowly and notice the trees in the neighborhood. In silence, we walked together, listening for God in a new way: in the breezes blowing through the budding branches. Actually, listening for God in the trees was not new at all. During that extraordinarily ordinary walk on a sidewalk around a city block, my soul reconnected with the way I bonded with God as a child in the woods behind our house.

Years after my first walking spiritual direction session –- during divinity school –- my spiritual director invited me to find a tree on campus and visit the tree regularly. This was another soul-tending invitation. Spending time with a big, old, oak tree taught me about God’s faithfulness and what it means to be related as children of God, no matter what. Silently visiting the oak tree helped me move from classroom head-learning of theology to my soul’s understanding of the value of spiritual direction for creating peace and understanding.

Fast forward to July 2009. Thirty-six people gathered at St. Michael’s College in Vermont, USA to learn about spiritual direction in the Abrahamic traditions. Muslim, Jewish, and Christian participants remembered our roots and stretched to learn from each other’s similarities and differences. Participants were invited to notice the trees on the beautiful campus. Verses from the Bible and Quran referring to trees, roots, and branches offered participants ancient words to nourish their souls. During a closing ritual, we planted a tree to commemorate our time together, “Building Bridges of Understanding.” Together we offered gratefulness for the opportunity to learn and grow. Who knows! Perhaps a future theology student will find soul sustenance from the serviceberry tree we planted.

Do you have a story about a favorite place or memory that nourishes the roots of your soul? Please share your story by offering comments in the reply section.

PHOTO: George Krol and Liz Mahoney add compost to the serviceberry tree planted on St. Michael's College campus in Colchester, Vermont.