The challenges never stop. Nothing stays stagnant and God gives me just enough time for rest and then pushes me along again. Trying to explain this will be a bit hard.
Went on a retreat with the Families of Nazareth last Wednesday. That was after Sunday, when I received the prayer chalice and Fr Jason blessed my very messy house for me. The Polish priest on the retreat, Fr. Piotr, talked on the Prodigal Son and brought yet one more new idea to the mix. I have studied the Prodigal story for many years and lived it even longer. Have I turned myself completely back over to God? I'd like to think so, but I still have attachments that I am not yet ready to let go of. But I know that I grow closer to it every day.
Fr. Piotr (Polish priest-the irony of me getting connected to a Polish priest is just one more example of God's humor--in my mind). (My very domineering, bossy father was also Polish and I was led to believe I was Polish for the first 30 years of my life. He always knew the right way to do things and insisted that I follow his instruction, and there was always severe consequences for not doing as I was told.) This priest suggested an "activity" for me that I don't entirely agree with. I can argue quite reasonably that I don't need to listen to a man (a priest) who will not look me in the eye, but I figure if God put it there, then I need to consider it, even and perhaps especially, when I disagree.
He cut me hard, he cut me deep. And I didn't know if I could survive it. But in the prayers afterward, I learned once again about God's hesed (unconditional love) and about how much better a woman I have become over the last year. His challenge is opening up for me a new perspective and a different kind of trust. I am spending a long time with what I call 'discernment of spirits' before I decide what I will do, but I think, ultimately, if it hurts then it most likely heals, too.
So I have somewhat made peace with it. Certain power has returned to me mostly by my willingness to give it all over to God. If I am to follow through on my commitment to my sweet and loving Lord, then I have to be willing to hand it all over to Him. It is the only way for me to become truly free to serve.
I promised God all of me. That means "ALL of me." And frankly, I love dearly the woman I am growing into. She amazes me.
Sunday I sat with a woman who was dying. In the course of two hours, I got to know her family fairly well. It was a holy time and I felt deeply blessed by God to be part of it. Perhaps I have already written this. I don't know. I knew how it was blessing me. I did know know if I was what the family needed me to be.
I know that I was a bit sad that I could not offer myself what the daughter most wanted for her mother: Last Rites. We waited for the priest together, though, and in that time, grace filled the room and things happened that needed to happen. Stories were told, prayers were prayed, hands were held...in that two hours of waiting, grace began its healing process and my presence made sense. So maybe God really did think it all out when He formed us in the ways He did. I was the midwife, teaching the daughter, who actually was a midwife as her profession, how to be the midwife for her mother. Every second was sacred.
When I was 18, and flying back on a plane from Indianapolis after competing and winning a 6th place in NFL Nationals (Speech tournament), I thought to myself: "Life is just perfect, finally! I can die now. I have done all I can and I have done my best."
This year, since January 1st, I think that same thought almost everyday. "I can die now. I have done my best. There is no unfinished business. My soul is as prepared as it can be." The bliss of that day, 35 years ago, is happening every single day now...and all of the hurts, and regrets and broken promise and pain seem to make sense in ways I never thought possible. The broken parts of me have been knitted back together into a person I have learned to love, just as she is (just as I am) and I think maybe, I've been a blessing to others along the way.
There is no love unless we give it away.
At the lady's funeral, I met the rest of her children. It was like we were old friends. And kindred spirits. One said to me, I'm a mystic and I don't know what to do. I told her about the prayer of humility and how it helped me let go. And then I gave it to her. And there was so much more. So much yet to come...and maybe some miracles, too. But it's too early to talk about them here.
None of this would have happened if I had not had to return to the church early because I was late to deliver Communion to someone who had a therapist at her house. That was because this mother had died, and I wanted to share prayers and grieve with the woman who were her friends and had lived with her for the last five years. That made me late to the next appointment, in which I had yet another discussion about the benefits of reconciliation and then I was late to the third, which I had to reschedule for today. And because of all the lateness, I met these children of the mother, and I knew about their lives because I sat with some of them. And then the ones from out of town, three women, we connected like electricity moving through a wire and we all knew each other even before we knew each other and it was such a God moment. Once again, I had the chance to offer my form of healing and reconciliation from the pain I had lived through in my own life. The right words for the right time. Not from me. God was there, I was just a messenger.
I've already received an email from one of the three. As they left, one hugged and kissed me. You have given me hope again, she said. Ah, but the reality for me was that she had given me hope again.
God never works in just a straight line.
And I didn't even get to writing about the 28 year old man who cried for an hour. I'll spare you the words now, and let them be for another post. But it is really, really good. God barely gives me time to write these days. But God has given me the chance to do this work for Him.
The Lord has blessed me, the Prodigal Daughter.
I don't know which one of us is holding on tighter to the other.
Love,
Cindy
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