Savage Garden - Truly Madly Deeply

Another exhausting week, so different from the last one. At least now I am not sick, and my voice has almost returned. Yesterday I spent the morning with my wonderful priest friend. He looked better. We had a wonderful time as always. He liked my soup. When we pray, I feel so much peace. We share stories. He listens to my adventures and offers a perspective. What bothers me about yesterday is that I know he told me something very important and I can't remember what he said. That's because a part of me was so caught up in his mortality. I want a miracle. I want him well. All I have is now. And now has to be enough. Tomorrow will have to take care of itself.

I remember the morning I woke up, perhaps two years ago, when I realized that one of my greatest gifts was death. I mean that I am called to help people die. I am called to draw people into reconciliation with God. My work is making beauty out of mortality.

The other night at a church coffee house, someone came up to me and hugged me. This was her first night out in public since her husband had passed away. She wanted me to know that. She was smiling. And then there were other faces that passed by and smiled, or hugged me...and I recall the encounters I have had with each one of them and what holy, holy moments they were.

It is who I am. A priest. But not a priest. Still a priest. What does this mean?

I have a new friend that I love dearly. She got caught in the crossfire on Tuesday night when I decided to throw a tantrum about not being able to be a priest. And the tantrum I threw was exhausting...and terrifying to me, because I loved this woman and she is a very good Catholic. She held me, looked me in the eye and said. "God put you in the Catholic Church for a reason. Figure it out." And I was really scared that I would lose her friendship because I showed my true colors.

Oh how I wish I could let it go. I wish I could grieve it and get on with life. I don't understand these strange feelings of wanting something that will never happen...and I wonder what it is calling me to face...or what I am hiding from that requires this much energy to hide from.

You know, like the mother of a drug addict. She spends all of her energy on praying for her son, trying to change her son...when God wants her to see what is inside her, what needs to heal in her...but this other thing is so distracting. That is how it feels sometimes.

So I must now go and beg her to forgive me. She heard words that she did not need to hear.

Truly, Madly, Deeply

I wrote a sermon for my preaching class with Zan Holmes using this song. Zan is an amazing African American Methodist preacher that, early in his career, was dismissed as uninteresting and giving a small church off of I-30...which he then turned into one of the largest Methodist Churches in the Dallas area. Zan was a gentleman of the highest order. I used this song to preach about my relationship with God...and he gave me an A.

For me, the God thing has always been truly, madly deeply...a perfect love story. This is a love that will never leave me, never hurt me, never be unfaithful, always keep me safe, satisfies my every need.

And it manifests itself through the people I meet.

Because He loved me, I can love them...as they need to be loved...I can hold on and let go...and it is all good.

And I must leave the house now. I'll finish later.

Love, Cindy