Can't write much now. But there's a creepy feeling associated with all this love in my heart, that death is imminent.I have an Orwellian attitude sometimes about things. If something good is happening to me, then the world must be coming to an end or something...
Tells me a lot about myself and about the life I have lived. Here's one I don't know if I have shared: when my kids were small, I was afraid that if I loved them too much, God would take them away from me. So I always tried to love them at a distance, to protect them, I thought, from harm. I am sure they never felt it that way. I am sure they were confused.
I had a great conversation with a priest last week. He said something to me like, "I cannot begin to imagine Cindy, what you feel. I was poor, but I was always surrounded by love."
So maybe God doesn't love me more than anyone else...that is probably true...but because of the ways my life unfolded, I am deeply aware of His love every single day. Eventually I get tired of asking the whys and hows of it and just accept it...breathe it in, swim in it, dance with it, and write...oh, I can never seem to find all the words that can express what I feel in my heart.
Not having to be perfect, failing so often, being oh so...human...and still having this love thing. Kind of creepy. Having something that no one can take away.
So all that non-love and fear of love I started out with in life is a real blessing, because I can see deep into the hearts of the people I meet. If I don't see, I at least feel their wounds and their fears. I am not afraid of them because I know how they once belonged to me too. And I know there is another side. There is a place beyond hell where paradise lives.
And that's what I can tell truthfully to others. I have seen and known hell and I have seen and known heaven. I suppose it is only God that I fear now. And I don't really fear God...I know He loves me...but sometimes I fear the lessons I must learn.
It is one of those days when I pray I will not be in an auto accident. You know, when the laundry piles up and you are left with the really ugly underwear...I will have to do wash tonight or I am in serious trouble.
I wonder though, if God will care...we are to be properly clothed at the time He calls us...does that mean cotton and wool and polyester weavings? I don't think so. We need to be awake enough to hear His voice. Willing to stand before Him and say this is me, take me. Take me home. A really messy house may bother my kids when I am gone, but I don't think God will use that as a prerequisite for resting in his arms. The kids came come up with some theological reflection concerning my love for God and my messy house...is cleanliness really next to godliness?
So this morning,with too much to do, I write again and again...I love to write. I throw on the dress hanging on the door to my bedroom. Oh! There is something heavy in the pocket!
What is it? A rosary. I look it over. Where did I get this one? My mind has to go over a bit of history. I have received a lot of rosaries this year...it is wonderful! Some I have asked for and some are just surprises. Like this one.
I got this one from Jean about two weeks ago. A divine mercy rosary. She used to be a nun. Back in the 90s, she was 110% behind me in becoming a Methodist minister. Hadn't seen her in years, but as I wander through town looking for places to pray, I found her again. And we were praying for the dead one night. She asked me to do a decade. I remember how Fr. Bruce used to tell me how much he loved the sound of my voice as I prayed the rosary...an odd thing to say, but Fr Bruce is a unique priest indeed. I was reminded of that when Jean asked me to pray.
I was praying for my biological mother, Jackie and my dear Aunt Dell...women I did not get to hold nearly enough. Anyway, she gave me the rosary and told me to keep it. That was cool.
That was a sign of our faith.
This Catholic faith.
This faith that is so hard to explain to people who can't or don't want to understand how some of us reach God in these little trinkets, stones to remind us of our individual past present and future and we recall a collective past present and future.
We are the Body of Christ, expanding well beyond our short lives into eternity by loving each other daily: truly, madly and deeply.
Love,
Cindy
No comments:
Post a Comment