I have plans for your future...

Continuing the thought from yesterday, that God finds me beautiful. I think we (or I) too often forget just how much I mean to God. I get so involved in trying to find God, please God, live for God, that I lose sight of how wonderfully made I am!

And yet, remember that I am precious to God, that God finds pleasure in me, that I am fearfully, wonderfully made, this remembrance brings such deep peace and joy. How can I forget that to God, I am unique? How can I fail to remember words of Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." 

We so often worry about how to approach God. And yet, according to scripture, God is already in our heart. As we read in Luke 17:21, Do you not know, the kingdom of God is within you?

And I would add, God wants us to believe, "you are so beautiful...to me."

To Dwell in the House of the Lord

I was sitting quietly in church for the Sunday service. I had rushed in at the last minute, and picked the closest empty pew. I'd forgotten my prayer book, so I could not even follow the readings for that day. Worse, I was so distracted that I totally missed hearing the first reading. "Great," I thought, "I won't even know what the theme is supposed to be."

Then came the responsorial psalm. One thing I ask of the Lord, this I seek, to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life (ps. 27:4).

When those words hit my ears, all distraction ceased and I found myself transported back in time. I was standing at the podium in the center of the choir (the monastic term for chapel because all prayers are sung). I was singing those very words, and they were coming from deep within my soul. Lord, this I seek, to dwell in your house all the days of my life. Oh please, help me! I don't understand what is going on. I want this life more than I want anything else in life, but it isn't working for me. How will I stay in your house if things continue in this vein? How will I live in your house all the days of my life if you don't lift this pain and struggle from me? The cry came from the very depth of my soul, uttered in anguish, asking God for help.

But the Lord did not hear my prayer. The pain and struggle did not cease. I had to accept my fate, that monastic life did not suit my personality, my temperament, or my needs. I left the community and the monastic way of life with a heavy heart, longing for that which I could not have.

It has taken me years to come to terms with this reality of my life. During that time, I've come to realize that I can still live in the House of the Lord. I need only make myself conscious of Presence. It is Presence that fills a choir or church and dominates the space. I can bring that same Presence into my life. All I need is a consciousness that Presence contains the Divine Being. Then, I live in that House, be it my apartment, my car, or a walk in nature. When I make the House of the Lord come into my life in this way, I can live in that House all the days of my life.

I remember now. And because of my remembrance, I no longer grieve.

The fullness of Presence

God clothes even the fields with wild flowers

It was just the ending of the Sunday sermon and it probably sounded good to most. But I found it troubling and fought with the words in my own heart and mind. The sermon ended with the words: it's not about us at all. It's all about God. It doesn't matter what you wear, or what kind of job you have. We must put all that aside. Because ultimately it is suppose to be all about God.

I know his point was, God should be first and the most important person of our life. The problem I had was, he was inferring that therefore, we don't matter. Only God does. And I find such thinking divides my life into either living for God or living for me, as if it has to be one way or the other. In reality, it should be both, together, in harmony and unity.

We read in the Gospel that even the hairs on your head are numbered...and no sparrow falls from the sky without God knowing it (Mt  10:30, 29). God would have us believe that not only do we matter; there is nothing about ourselves, our lives, or our work that is too small to be important to God.

I suppose my biggest problem with the words of Sunday's sermon is the dichotomy it promotes, making the choice of a life for God a choice against myself. I'm not speaking here of the restraint we need against our selfish and destructive habits and obsessions. I am speaking of the choices that make up our normal, daily lives. These are not unimportant to God. And life isn't about treating these choices as inconsequential in favor of some vague, esoteric God choice. Because it doesn't come down to either God or me, but should rather be God IN me.

Had I been preaching, I would have said: And so, remember that every little thing you do, be it the clothes you put on or the car you drive, can and should be done with the presence of God in mind. For he cares for you, so much so that nothing, no daily ritual, habit, or chore is unimportant to him. For you have a Divine Being who cares so much that even the smallest thing you do is noticed.

Make your choice one of awareness of God by bringing God into all of these daily things. And instead of dividing your life, you will enrich it with the fullness of presence.

Seeking the Deity Within

Recently someone shared with me the difficulty she had seeking  her true self. "I'm afraid to look inside of myself for fear of what I  might find," she admitted.

We often feel that way without realizing it.  We look for fulfillment outside of ourselves when we have a great treasure right inside our soul. Not that we don't need the outside stimulus or activity. Simply put, what it offers us pales to what we already have.

I admit, this is a hard concept to swallow. I too look for recognition, accolades, growth from the outside. I read constantly in an effort to learn more about myself and my journey. I forget that right in my soul is a Deity waiting patiently for me so that we can get to know one another better.

Its like having a great car, gas tank full, all the whistles and stops. And I look for something else to pull that car. Maybe a donkey,or a mule, or even a dog. All the time, the key is in the car, and if I would just sit down and turn the key, I would find the car has its own power to move.

True, all these thoughts require a certain balance.  But I still believe, we forget about the Deity within us, waiting to share with us the secrets of our hearts that even we aren't aware of.

Death and Pain

Some years ago a book titled "Why bad things happen to good people" hit the market by storm. Recently, I looked up the book to see who wrote it and what it was about. And I was impressed to know the author wrote about his own pain and finding peace with his son's death at age 14. What struck me most in the preface was his statement that while watching his son deteriorate before his eyes (he'd known his son would die young since he was 3) many people gave him answers, but none of the answers addressed his own questions about God and the pain we are forced to endure.

We all know as followers of Jesus that pain and sorrow will come our way. It comes not because we are followers, but because we live in a human world. The  biggest mistake we make in pain is passing it off with phrases that sound holy, but do not help the heart. "Carry your cross" or "God will not give you more than you can bear" or "his grace is sufficient for you" do not answer the question Mary herself put to Jesus when she found him in the temple, My son, why have you done this to us?

Pain and sorrow sear the soul. It can devastate a person, but it also offers the opportunity for a stronger faith and hope. The answers best for us are the ones we find ourselves as we walk through the darkness and pain. Somehow, in the mists and agony, we can find answers to the questions that plague the heart. We must just be patient.

I once read in a conference by Frederick Faber's that said those souls most like God tend to suffer the most in this life. Such thoughts do not help much at the time of pain. But being there for a friend, letting them know wordlessly that we care, reaching out to comfort a heart; these things help such thoughts bear fruit.

God's presence.

Somewhere in scripture Jesus says we are never alone. We used to think of this as God "watching" us always. No matter where we were or what we were doing, God was sitting up in heaven and could "see" us.

But I now think of such things differently. I think of God being within me, not so much watching, but just being. And no matter where I go, I am taking God along. Maybe he is sleeping like Jesus did in the boat. Maybe he is enjoying the view. Maybe he is trying to catch my attention.

Julian of Norwich spoke of God as the acorn. Catherine of Sienna saw him as a bridge. But, however your image, we do carry about a presence divine and wonderful and awesome.