A Dream

I want to be a writer. I wish I were a writer.

To inspire, comfort, challenge; to bring joy, laughter, tears, silence.

To open worlds to others who either can't see or are limited by place and time.

To see the world in complex detail and use words to lift the veil that hides so others can see.

To change that complexity to simplicity which is able to go to the heart.

To experience the honor of someone else reading what I have written and be impacted, changed by it.

And to find the freedom and the words to say what is deep within or may scurry across my mind quickly to disappear.

And to not be concerned how others may judge my words or my ability.

DESIRE

This morning as I sit reading I find myself, once again, in a familiar place. It's not a place that I enjoy. Daily as I do spiritual reading a longing rises up inside me. It's a desire I sometimes fear will never be fulfilled again. This hunger makes me sad. I suppose I could think of more eloquent, descriptive language for this feeling but I think the simplicity of "sad" says it all.

Then, it's like I begin to fold within; fold upon myself. Is that really God in there? Is that where I find him? Peace immediately comes. I seem to hear, "Here I am".

I'm aware that I look for God all around me. Trying to find a people, a place where this loneliness, this hunger will be fed. For now, for this time, I need to look deep within my soul and see The Wonder. It has to be enough for now. After all, it is all I have in this moment.

The question, then, is can it be enough? Can I live in that inner-ness? In all honesty it's not what I want but it is what I have.

Admission

Many years ago I lead a study of the book of John. To this day it was one of the most meaningful Bible studies I have ever done. It was about just looking at Jesus; how he lived each day; how he related to people.

As I remember one powerful thing I observed was how it was said of the disciples several times, "And then they believed". That gave me great comfort. It still does. These men who walked with Christ had to continually overcome doubt. Their conversion seemed to be life long instead of immediate.

I have found myself identifying with these followers once again.

Today it is written, "And then she believed."

Walking In

I've just started "The Cloister Walk" by Kathleen Norris.

Within this book I seem to find myself. It's not that the author writes "about" me. It's just that as I am reading I am reminded of who I am. Christ's voice becomes clear. I struggle to hear his voice most times. But the words of this poet telling her own story seems to make clear my call.

I make myself envision walking into the pages and find myself in a place of freedom; a place I can move about without worry; a place I find comfort and peace.

I want to spend the day reading this book so I can stay in this place of identity. But I also don't want to finish the book. I fear I may find myself homeless again.

LENT AND CONVERSION

These passages are from Kathleen Norris' "Amazing Grace". I will not comment on them. I let them stand as the text of my thoughts for this week.

"At breakfast on Tuesday morning I was touched to discover that one of the women had decorated the dining area for Mardi Gras. We each has a place mat adorned with rickrack, and a construction paper mobile of spring flowers, adding a bit of color and cheer, hung above the table. The sub-zero cold outside, the dreary sky, suddenly seemed less discouraging. That afternoon, I purchased a bunch of daffodils for the table, and the sister who was home when I arrive got up to find a vase. We talked about Lent, and she told me that for most of her life she had considered it only in punitive terms, as a time of self-denial. "Now," she said, "I still fast, but my reasons for fasting have changed." She hope to recover Lent as an aspect of spring itself, a time of waiting, but also of burgeoning hopes. For her this meant paying close attention to things like intake of food and the acquiring of possessions not in order to punish herself but to ore fully honor the good things in life."

"Conversion is a process; it is not a goal, not a product we consume. And it's a bodily process, to only an emotional or intellectual one. The very cells in our body are busy changing, renewing themselves, ever few days. Yet we remain recognizable ourselves. That is how conversion works, a paradox beautifully expressed in two vows that are unique to Benedictine life. To join a monastic community, people promise stability, pledging to remain in that community for life. At the same time they also promise to remain always open to change, to what is loosely translated as a "conversion of life."
We know what happens when we have stability without conversion; we end up stagnant, curled up comfortably with that familiar idol called "This is the way we've always done it." And conversion without stability may describe the current state of affairs with regard to the spiritual life in America. Many seem to value change for it's own sake; we're always after something new. But when seeking the holy becomes a goal in itself, the last thing we want to do is it. In all of the religious traditions I know of, anything that feels like finding translates into commitment. And like conversion itself, commitment is scary."

Good Ol' Friends

Yesterday I visited a church because an old friend was going to be there. It was so good to see her. It reminded me of how valuable past relationships are to the present. It actually caused a bubbling of joy in me, even this morning. I enjoyed seeing her excitement over a hobby turned more. How do we continue to cultivate friendships and relationships when we don't see each other very often? I was so aware yesterday of how much we could enlighten each other by sharing our recent journeys.

Since distance separates us a bit I am determined to value those close by and take and make opportunities to grow the friendships that are near.

My Deconstruction

The term "deconstruction" used in talking about spirituality and referring to who I am is relatively new to me. I don't know how long it has been commonly used in this way but I have only been aware of it for the last 2 - 3 years. When I first heard someone talk about their own deconstruction, something inside jumped to grab hold of that word.

This is what I feel has happened to me the last few years. What about me has been "deconstructed"? What I believe; how I believe; what is faith; who is God; how do I relate to this mystery; how does this impact how I relate to the world? In other words, most of who I am.

What I am seeing lately is that it is important for me to stay in this place of deconstruction for a while. Don't rebuild too quickly. Yes there has been some progress made in the rebuilding, but if I want it to be the structure (the flowing, fluid structure) that God wants, I need to let the process be slow.

As part of this process here is an example of my rebuilding:

"The way is narrow" - this used to mean to me that finding God was very difficult. You could easily miss it or even if you had a glimpse of the path it was too difficult a climb to stay on it. I am now reconsidering that explanation.

What if the "seeing" of the way is not so difficult? After all during advent we read about making the way straight, flat, easy (you can read my thoughts on this in past posts). What if the narrow part is truly following Jesus, his example. I'm not talking about healing, ruling, making it to heaven. Any one would want to follow those things. But what if the narrow part is the social, political example of Christ's life?

Will I stand for justice?
Will I defend and protect the marginalized?
Will I speak out against power and domination?
Will I eat with "drunkards and sinners"?
Will I invite the prostitute to sit at my table?

I say yes to all of this - I believe all of this. But can I, will I actually live it?

It is obvious this way is narrow. Consider Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Jr. I know there are others that have not become so well known in following this path. Again, this way is narrow. Even as I write this something in my heart aches because I don't know if I can do it.

Do I love God? Yes
Do I identify Christ as the way? Yes
Do I pray? Yes

But, the rest is much more difficult. This is the kind of person I want to be rebuilt as. A kind of $6,000,000 man I guess. I think I will take this slowly. I need the Spirit step by step, inch by inch. Maybe the important part of staying on the narrow way is sight. Looking, seeing, being aware.

I have no answer, no formula. But I do have a desire. Hopefully that will keep me on the path.