The Hard Way

I've been deleting all of the non-published entries of the last month and storing them away for future reference if I ever get a clear picture of what happened in the last month, why it happened and maybe later, I'll understand what it is I am truly called to be...that is, if there really is a name for it. But this entry was a draft of something I put together just before the Dark Night arrived. It's kind of nice. A bit refreshing over the Jacobian wrestling with God that I have been doing lately.
Last night, when I went out walking under the moon, I realized I was experiencing a bit of double vision. I called my nurse-friend and she said I was probably dehydrated. This morning, the problem seemed pretty much gone.
From sometime around July 24th:

A year ago, I went on my first ACTS Retreat: July 16th- 19th. I am still kind of numb when I try to get my head around everything that has happened in the last year, actually two years. How can I even begin to explain when I am continually sitting in the midst of His Grace? How can I write about redemption while I am standing on holy ground? How can I tell you that, after 53 years of living, I understand what love is, what it means, what we are supposed to do with it, and that life really is worth living...even when so very much of it is about pain and letting go.
Sounds a bit bonkers.
I think back on the only week I had with my real mother, what that must have felt like, and what it was like to lose that so quickly. Then to spend the rest of my life looking for that love and at age 52, really finding it again. I write 52, because the Mayans believe that life cycles are 52 years long. I heard that on a bus on the way to Chichen Itza. Since I was going to be 52 a couple of months later, I decided that I would die on that day and that my new life would begin. A real tabular rasa. And it did.
It was time to throw out the old ways and try something new. I'm not talking about mid-life crisis here, although some people will probably be more comfortable dismissing my dramatic ascent to Mount Carmel in that manner. Go ahead. Tell yourself what you need to so that you can feel safe. Nothing about what I am doing is safe anymore.
I am talking about radical love. Love of God, self and neighbor. In ways I have never imagined. All the fantasies I thought I knew I wanted have been blown out of the water by the real thing.
He really loves us. And He really wants us to love one another.

Things are moving through my life so quickly these days. Or it feels that way. Sometimes I feel like I am on roller blades coasting down a rocky slope that appears to lead to a cliff from which I can see no real ground. Part of me is thrilled with the ride, another part is thinking about all those rocks, which seem to be there in my way, but are not stopping me from reaching the edge of the cliff. The cliff looks clear and beautiful and I can see clouds, but I cannot see any ground...does it lead to death or heaven...or both? Will I somehow sprout wings or will the Hand of God reach out and carry me to His Home?
Lots of metaphors to describe what seems to be happening now. Step by step, bit by bit, people are telling me their stories. They are telling me their truths. And they cannot seem to help themselves. I am watching, I am present, I am a witness to the greatest healings of all times. I am awake to the past, the present and the future.
What began for me as a grin on my face during a staff meeting in 1997, after my first overt union with God, has somehow blossomed into an unceasing awareness of His Presence in every single activity of my life. It is so perfect and wonderful that I want everyone I know to know it also.
With You in me and me in You and Us in them...am I making any sense at all?
We are so much more than flesh and blood. We are covenant people.

My son and I began a conversation this morning. I did not raise him Catholic, but we were discussing marriage. He talked about marriage as a covenantal relationship with your spouse and God. I just smiled at him. Of course, I said. Catholics believe that marriage is a sacrament. It is a means of grace, not to be entered into lightly. It is a covenant.
Protestants do not view marriage as a sacrament. For them (or some of them, I stress SOME) it is a legal contract between two people who decide to form a business in which children and other products of that business are protected by law. So it is easier to undo. It is easier to disrespect...I feel strange about writing it that way, but I think it is correct. Divorce is acceptable because one party can list a set of reasons why the contract becomes mo longer profitable and thus can be dissolved with dishonor. It is entered into with a desired blessing from God, but it is not sacramental in nature.
Bobby was impressed. I took the Catechism and put it on the coffee table. You want to know how the Catholic Church understands marriage, it is in there. He holds his very worn Bible. He quotes I Peter,I think. And I am stunned...I am aware that much more is happening than a Sunday morning conversation here.

And then, a few days later, all hell broke loose. The light is returning to me in slow movements. I'm not wanting to trust much of anything right now. I find it interesting to look at this entry, and feel again that I was very close to something very good...and then to have it snatched suddenly away. And by a "man of the cloth," at that.

On my first ACTS retreat, I received the message "Count the Cost." I thought, what in the world does that mean? And then I remembered that when I told Keith I wanted to become a Methodist minister, he said to me, "count the cost." And he wasn't speaking of money. Knowledge and truth always have a price. Telling the truth has a price, just as much as lying. The cost, the sacrifice I planned to make...is so small when compared to the sacrifice He made for me. So very small. On the next ACTS retreat, I received the message "Betrayal." I was told I would go into the garden with Jesus and I would be betrayed.

Jesus had more than one Dark Night of the Soul, but even in the midst of it, he stayed faithful to His purpose. He fasted '40 days' in the desert and THEN the devil came to Him to tempt Him. The devil is smart enough to wait until we are tired and hungry to whisper in our ear. He knows where the cracks are. And is timing is impeccable.

My dark night seems to have a loud voice that cries out to be heard. I have felt a bit betrayed by some people, but when I think about it, they are just being who they are. Not a lot of right and wrong in the scenarios, just a kind of loneliness that aches the heart a bit too much. But while I have spent time grieving that I will never be priest (although I have been given several options in the last couple of weeks) and that I might never be a nun (that one hurts a bit more right now), I can never doubt that God loves me, even if my journey has been less than orthodox.

I am convinced that what has occurred is real and the next time a "man of the cloth" questions the validity of my spiritual experience, I have to remember that he is first a man, a human. He might be tired or hungry or just have to go to the bathroom. Or maybe I rang a bell in him that he thought had been silenced. What I need to hang on to is that I have made a promise to God, to let Him have all of my life. Not just the pretty parts, and not just when it is convenient. I made a promise that encompasses all of who I am, who I was and who I will be. No human being has the right to sever that covenant. He/she can be a part of it,perhaps, but what I have promised cannot and will not be taken away.

It's August. It's hot. Most of us are not getting enough water and are dehydrated. When our brains don't get enough water, we can't think clearly. When we are in real pain, we will agree to almost anything to make the pain go away. Lately, I've been with people who are suffering terrible and frightening trials right now. Makes my whining seem like...whining. When it comes to pain, I don't really think we can heal ourselves, or at least we cannot heal our hearts. We need someone else to help. Shutting people out when we hurt is the first wrong thing we do. Love happens when "two or more are gathered in His Name," and love heals everything.

I think that's part of what the passage in Hebrews is speaking about. People were suffering and dying for God. Things looked bleak. We are supposed to lean on one another, and remember what we hold in our hands...the tears of our friends...


From Hebrews 10:
Remember the days past when, after you had been enlightened, you endured a great contest of suffering. At times you were publicly exposed to abuse and affliction; at other times you associated yourselves with those so treated. You even joined in the sufferings of those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, knowing that you had a better and lasting possession.
Therefore, do not throw away your confidence; it will have great recompense. You need endurance to do the will of God and receive what he has promised. "For, after just a brief moment, he who is to come shall come; he shall not delay. But my just one shall live by faith, and if he draws back I take no pleasure in him." We are not among those who draw back and perish, but among those who have faith and will possess life.
Drink water. Love one another. Trust God. He knows everything you need and will give it to you. I promise.
Hang on to what you know is real. Do not trade is away for something less. What you have is perfect. Cherish it.

Love, Cindy