The Unwalled Heart

In the practice of centering prayer, there comes a moment every practitioner dreads — the moment when the sacred word dissolves and you are left with nothing. No comfort, no felt presence, no assurance. Just raw, open silence. Thomas Merton called this the point where "our own poverty and His mercy meet." It is precisely here that Joshua 1:9 becomes not a command shouted from outside, but a whisper rising from the indwelling God: "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."

We misunderstand courage when we imagine it as a clenched fist. The contemplative tradition teaches that true courage is an unclenched hand — the willingness to remain present when every instinct says flee. Teresa of Avila spent eighteen years in what she called spiritual dryness before entering the deeper mansions of prayer. She did not push through by force of will. She stayed. She returned to the silence, morning after morning, trusting that El Shaddai was doing hidden work in the dark.

This is the courage Joshua needed — not merely for battle, but for the long obedience of walking into unknown territory with nothing but the promise of Presence.

When you next sit in centering prayer and the emptiness frightens you, do not retreat into noise. Stay one breath longer. That single breath of remaining is the bravest thing a soul can do. God is not absent in the silence. God is the silence.