Prison

There is a great Buddha Story about being in prison. I may have written about it before.A man stands, holding on the bars to his window, watching the sun shine through it. He is so intent on looking that he does not realize the door behind him is wide open.
We look so intently in one direction, we cannot see there is another way.This has been the theme in my heart for at least a month: There has got to be another way.
In the last seven days, I received another letter from someone I visited for about a year, who is now in prison. He sounds better, he wants me to visit and bring his kids to see him.
The Scripture readings this week have been about prison. About knowing the truth and the knowing the price for speaking the truth. About suffering and prison breaks and about not bending to the threats of men in power.
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I visited my ex-husband's parents on Sunday. It was like reliving my last days with my own mother. The visit was good. I enjoyed looking into familiar eyes and seeing smiles I had remembered from so long ago. We spoke about people and events and ideas. We even talked politics, but did not argue. The pressing matter was my mother-in-law, who had broken her hip.  I remembered how the whole world revolved around her husband's life and his career.  I remembered how much his wife cried as each stage of life would go by and she would tell me, that maybe now, they would be together...husband and wife...and how yet one more time, he had chosen his career.  She had her prison, he had his...and I had mine.

I prayed with them, left the room and got in my car. Before backing out of the parking space, I was overcome with anxiety.  I began to really see all the illusions I had created for myself in order to survive.  It is a terrifying thing sometimes, to see the truth.  I am quite certain almost no one sees their truth.  Seeing the truth is devastating.  Wasn't it Kierkegaard who wrote that the miracle was that those of us who really see the world still choose to live in it anyway?  Something like that.  Yet, without question, by facing our truths, we finally become fully alive.


I wanted to throw up. I wanted to die. I knew that I not only still loved my ex-husband, I still wanted him to love me back.  A man who doesn't believe in God. I am internally convinced he was the perfect man for me.  The only one who could challenge me, make me curious and not make me feel stupid.  And yet, I know I was so alone with him...and desperate for a "real relationship" whatever that meant.  God was showing me, I've been looking out the window for 15 years. I'm still married to my ex-husband....no matter how many men I have loved since then, no matter that he has been married for nearly all of those 15 years.
I am hanging onto to the bars, looking out...not realizing the prison has been opened and I am free. There is a disconnect in my theology.  I want to be free, but I don't want to be free. And I keep stewing over two ideas in Catholic theology: "Born of a woman" and "God does not call women to the priesthood." And the pot is boiling and I am feeling like I will explode. There is no way out of this without going through it. So go through it, I will.
It will cost me everything. 
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I wrote that a week ago. If only I had known...Yes, God is breaking my life apart. Those of you who are conservative Catholics may rejoice at what is happening to me. Yesterday I stoned by a friend. I was betrayed. I was accused. And I was told I was not welcome. And that no one wanted me.

For a short moment, I cried. And I was sad that I cried. Different tears than a week ago. But the same. Both events revealed truths about myself. My weakness. My unfinished business. The great fears I had about myself were all coming true with a vengeance. And then I began to think it through. What was really happening here? Why was he so angry? And then I thought, this does not sound like him. This sounds like a man who has been coached. It didn't take too long to figure out what was really happening. I began to think and not just feel. I know that God has been behind, inside and guiding all of my strange encounters.  My promise of confidentiality to the people meet with would not let me defend myself by countering pridefully the things I have accomplished this year. God will vindicate me, if I need vindication.  And if God condemns me, I accept His judgment. But I know He knows my heart. And I have promised Him all that I am. I have said I will accept all, and if that includes alienation and betrayal, then so be it.
I listened carefully...now that my emotions were no longer in control.  I challenged some his sweeping statements simply by asking for clarification. I decided I needed to tell him more about my visions, more of my understanding about my relationship with God. I told him about things he knew about me, but forgot.

And the heat in the room cooled...enough to let love back in.

Why are they so afraid of me? I asked God. Because you tell the truth, Cindy. I took one of his accusations and agreed with it. And I told him that was my gift. I sit with someone and I look into their soul. Tell me all the lies you want, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth. Your truth...it's not for me...it's for you. And no, I will never use your truth against you. I will shine a light on it so you can see where you are going. And then you can decide if you still want to go there.

So yeah, maybe I'm scary. And those who want to live in lies...I suppose they are going to hate me. I have to get used to that. And so God took someone I love...and showed me...that I can do this work. That I was created to do this work. And yes, some days it's going to get ugly.  But if I'm praying without ceasing, I won't hurt them...and I won't hurt me.

A year ago, I was not even close to being this strong. A year ago, I would have tried to please an angry person, especially if they were...in a position of power over me. My year's work as chaplain has helped me to manage my own anxiety. Now I stick to the truth...as best as I am able. Now I know I can handle a little fire.

I have no desire to ever be a martyr in the popular sense of the word, but I am thinking I might really be able to stand up for God. To take a beating for God. If I have acted wrongly, I'm sure He will let me know. And then I will learn from that, too. 

But I am not in prison any more. Learn who you are. Then be who you are. Our wounds, if honored, will become a great source of healing for all of us. They will make us beautiful if we let them. I'm not saying anything new, but I am saying it today.

Love, Cindy