New year, new decade. Eighth day of Christmas. Mary Mother of God. And many more new things. Hanging on and letting go. Can't talk much about it all yet. Today was a day of trust. Of new trust. I allowed someone to see the way I pray. Was that right or wrong? A good thing? A bad thing? I don't know. But I am certain it was a necessary thing. Part of spiritual growth is about observing and being observed. But still, it is prayer is a private thing and it is a holy thing. Yet it is a gift to be received with grace and given with grace.
I recall once at Perkins, one of my professors 'caught' me in prayer. At some point he decided to let me know he was present. I never quite know what happens when I pray, but I know we became fast friends. Especially in a Methodist school, where perhaps certain prayer styles are quite foreign, even to people who prefer to pray without a text. In one of the many books he wrote, he signed in it something like "to Cindy, whose caritas is great" (I could dig it out, but I am not at home) I never really wanted to explore what he meant, with knowledge comes responsibility. I have spent a great many years trying to 'down play' my relationship with God. As I am growing older, I am beginning to fear that God might not be pleased with me for hiding what I know to be true.
I thought becoming a Methodist minister would be sufficient for Him, truthfully for me. It was good, but not good enough. I thought that move was outrageously bold and I thoroughly expected to be stopped and called out for the fraud that I was. But it wasn't until I did something deliberately wrong (at least in my eyes) that I could go ahead and blame someone else for my failure in that work. But the truth is I never failed in the work I set out to do. For a handful of people, I did exactly the right thing. And that was enough for a lifetime. But with the changing of the guard, more demands were made of things I did not consider important and I lost respect for myself and my position.
I realized that I must either give all of myself to God or it was as if I was giving Him nothing at all. Now such criteria is not required of all lovers of God...at least I am not going to make the rules on this here, but for me, I cannot love anyone half-way. And if someone loves me, I expect that person to love me completely, just as I am (thank you Bridget Jones, for pointing that out)or please don't profess something you are not willing to give.
Now that appears to present problems. How could I ask anyone to take me just as I am? My question back is: How can anyone really love only part of a person? If you love only part of someone, you are in love with a particular behavior or status or physical attribute...and that is not love, in my opinion. Affection perhaps. I will have to think about this one some more to explain it better.
God calls us to love one another as we love ourselves. How do we love ourselves? In parts? Do I love my eyes only or do I love the wrinkles around them as well? Do I dissect myself and score myself on desirability? If I do, I remain miserable because there is always areas for improvement. On me, the list would be endless, so it is almost easy to let go of attainment of physical perfection. If I seek to correct a certain area (and I am focusing on a few this January) it is so that I can do the work I feel called to do more efficiently, knowing that even if I fail, God will get the work done without me.
I see I have left my original thoughts again for a rabbit trail. Prayer. That intimate relationship each of us has with God. Unique, dynamic, passionate, vulnerable. Exquisite. Priceless. Timeless.
Think about it. What we say to God in this one moment...or what God says to us in this one moment...is as timeless as the Word of God Himself. He hears our prayers to Him in a way that transcends time. Think of all the prayers you have ever prayed being woven into a wonderful warm quilt that God takes covers both us and Him into a snuggle where, if we ever knew a mother's love, it would be that kind of feeling. The one who gave you life, the one who created you and cherishes you, leans over you and bends into what has been created and covers you without ever resisting your individuality, giving you freedom within her protection.
You can crawl out from her arms, or his arms, and leave the quilt behind and stand in the cold world and try to do it on your own. God will not stop you, but when you grow tired of not finding what you want 'out there,' you can return to the quilt and to her arms and just say "Hold me until I feel better."
Such was yesterday for me. During my second prayer for the day, I laid down on the floor and I asked God to hold me. I have things to do now and I do not know how to do them. I'm a talker and I like to process out loud, but these thoughts are not for public consumption yet. But writing about thinking about the ideas helps. And if I write honestly, it may encourage someone out there to risk loving God completely.
Thank would make me very happy. Risk love with God. It makes it so much easier to risk love with everyone else.
Happy New Year!
Love, Cindy
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