Our church has a labyrinth dedicated to Lisa Bernheisel. She was an Associate Priest from 2018 to her death in 2023. I never knew her, but I do love a nice labyrinth. I have walked the one at the Convent of the Transfiguration and at the Sisters of Charity in Delhi Township. Recently I arrived at the our church for a meeting. I was early and knew I could go explore the labyrinth which is down the hill from the parking lots.
The stairs were not as intimidating as they looked from above. I always approach a labyrinth with a listening heart. I began the slow approach to the center, around the path and back the other way, a step further out and follow the path until it no longer mattered where I was on the course. Progress is not the goal, but listening, yielding, quieting, centering in God.
I cannot tell you clearly now what my goal was that morning. I can relay that what I sought I found, that peace that passes all understanding, that knowing that I am known, and held, and loved. Towards the center of the circuitous route my eyes were opened to see a stone that looks like a cracked egg shell. I knew that was for me to leave at the center. When I arrived at the center I was delighted that the huge stone that marked center-point had a crack in it, like the rock that is higher than I, the cleft of the rock, the split or crack.
From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings. Selah. Psalm 61:2-4 KJV
As does each of us, that morning I was longing to be known and heard, held and cared for. Here was the Spirit showing me that I am just that: seen, heard, held, cared for, and provided for. I picked up the ‘egg shell’ rock and placed it in the cleft.


I left the area knowing I had fulfilled what St. Augustine of Hippo is quoted as saying:
It is solved by walking.
Soon our church will celebrate the memory of Lisa Bernheisel. I feel as if I missed out by never having known her. Perhaps I can celebrate this life I never knew by serving to sweep the labyrinth. We will see the condition of my ankles and hands as I approach that idea! Arthur-itis is not my friend, but he keeps coming to my house.














