I said to the Lord, I’m going to hold steady on to you, and I know you will see me through.
—Harriet Tubman, Scenes in the Life of Harriet Tubman
Spiritual director Therese Taylor-Stinson offers Harriet Tubman as a model of spiritual courage:
Harriet [Tubman] made three attempts to freedom but returned each time because of fear. The fear of being alone. The fear of dying. The fear of never seeing her family again or being part of a vital community…. Fear can be debilitating. Overcoming debilitating fear brings a new sense of freedom and a focus to accomplish your goal, though the struggle that ensues may seem like only a first step for some. To escape your enslavers is to take ownership of your own life. That is not just a physical or intellectual achievement. It is an emotional achievement that changes how you view yourself and how you allow others to view you. [1]
Taylor-Stinson describes how Tubman’s faith has inspired her own reliance on prayer in times of crisis:
Throughout [Harriet’s] life of approximately ninety-three years, she returned to God again and again, asking for protection, insight, and the ability to lead her family and others to freedom. Despite the many close calls and her own fragility, she would breathe deeply and present herself to God through prayer and song and faith, believing in her call to freedom. [2]
Later in life, she would say that she always knew when danger was near…. She said God would tell her when to stop, when to leave the road, or when to turn in another direction. She was always in prayerful discernment: “’Twasn’t me, ‘twas the Lord! I always told Him, ‘I trust you. I don’t know where to go or what to do, but I expect You to lead me,’ an’ He always did. I prayed to God to make me strong and able to fight, and that’s what I’ve always prayed for ever since.”…
Reflecting on the way Harriet faced uncertain times, times of need, even as she sought to help others, I think of a time in my own life—a time of great trial, a time I was unable to pray, a time I felt silenced by others; I fell silent myself, except for one name I repeated again and again: “Jesus.” I did not know what significance the name held, but it was all I had. As the saying and the song go, “There’s something about the name of Jesus!” I found that my silence was prayer. My willingness to trust the unknown was prayer. My desolation was prayer. My intention for a Presence surely greater than me was prayer. I would say, like Jacob, “I will not let go until you bless me.” Though uncertain about what the blessing might be or how the blessing would be delivered, I walked in trust. I trusted that something greater than myself lived in me and would see me through. [3]
References:
[1] Therese Taylor-Stinson, Walking the Way of Harriet Tubman: Public Mystic & Freedom Fighter (Broadleaf Books, 2023), 99–100.
[2] Taylor-Stinson, Walking, 27.
[3] Taylor-Stinson, Walking, 117, 119.
Image credit and inspiration: Pao Dayag, untitled (detail), 2021, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Like a seedling rising out of the earth, we unfold into the brightness of day, knowing that God is a source of protection and life.
Story from Our Community:
At times when the darkness arrives, I wrestle with it, tolerate it, and try to accept it, but I often forget it is primarily my “teacher and transformer,” as Fr. Richard says. Eventually I get to a point where I begin to see. It’s like entering a dark space. Your eyes need to adjust awhile before you even begin to notice the emerging luminosity, and the confusion and fear begin to dissipate. I have grown to remember: God is totally present in the darkness, opening me to receive God’s peace and love, mostly without immediate understanding. These liminal times have become treasures.
—Jo-Ellen D.
