NMWBY

There just never seems to be enough life for life.   I found myself reaching for two items here, in my prayer room, that did not belong in this room. I had each in my hand and realized that, mathematically, I had to walk in opposite directions to deliver them to their proper homes, that it was foolish and a waste of energy to carry them both to complete the task.  So I set one down, put the other back where it belongs, and this morning, as I walked into the room...there it was, the second task, waiting to be taken home. 
I write that as I remember yesterday, standing between two priests at the Whataburger. No one else in line, I feel them (the priests) flanking me. Part of me goes off to the side of the room and laughs. The woman behind the counter looks at the three of us and asks, "What do you want?"

What do I want? What do I want? I want to be a priest. Could it be any more obvious to anyone?  I mean, are you blind?

Alas, a priest, in this lifetime, I will never be. And I honestly don't know how to live in this body God gave me.  In my head, because of the way I was treated as a child, I can still see the two only options I had: to be used or to use. Someone was always going to win and I was going to fight to the death to make sure the person that won was me.
So perhaps the idea of being a priest creates for me that beautiful place where I don't have to choose to fight. I can just be a child of God, living for God, mothering others to grow closer to him...and not have to worry about being objectified or mishandled.
And I know a few priests who would be laughing out loud if I said that to them right now. There is no escape from being saint or icon or the devil himself. A collar doesn't protect you from that. People see what they want to see. One simply continues to be the priest inspite of it.
And so it goes, the world may not know me, but God knows me and God knows my heart even better than I do...so I tell Him daily, many times a day:
Not My Will But Yours....NMWBY...and I do my best to let go of my desires....AGAIN...

But the Whataburger adventure was, as all adventures, a surprise, a laughter experience, a learning experience.  We talked about many things. When there are three, I am less selfish. I go into my pastoral road and get a bit theological.  Okay, maybe  a lot theological. These priests are respectful of me. They do not [laud]their position over me (I can't think of the correct word).  I think priests who are not yet comfortable in their role tend to drawn attention to the authority they have been given and they are quick to let you know who they are.  I look for the priest who knows who he is...he is the best company.My strength does not threaten them, and they have no trouble telling me to back off in a way that is not offensive or hurtful to me. But those are rare. Like diamonds. I cherish them. 

So one priest poses a question in logic for me. I recognised it immediately: the goat, the hay, the lion, the boat, the river.  I tried to remember the solution. I found it.  We laughed. He tried another one, but I could not follow the instructions. He won that one.  We laughed. The challenge came up when I suggested they both go to the movie "The Life of Pi" during the holidays.  I thought I did a pretty good sell.  But I'm pretty sure they will let it pass. That's too bad. I want to have more things to discuss, including whether or not the movie will include all of the theological concepts introduced in the book.  I like to discuss books.

Yes, I always have personal issues, that remain relevant, but I will gladly settle for a theological discussion in lieu of someone helping me to address my challenges.  Besides, with the work I do, the distraction is welcome. I faced a lot of pain this weekend, perhaps these last seven days. I watch and see how I can help...but I am stuck now in this place where I have to know myself better again...and the energy it requires to move in and out of myself while I am moving in and out of other people's lives is exhausting. 
I was designed to be a priest, my spiritual gifts are most present there...but that is not an option...so I must hone my skills as a chaplain, which is also what I was built for, but it is more of a second tier spiritual gift. Better than being a high school teacher, not as good as a college professor, but it will do and I believe I am good at it. Good enough at it.  That's how it feels now, because someone is cutting open my heart again...just as I asked...and I am not working to my full potential. Later, when my heart heals, I'll be back to my old self...caring for the dying.

So the couple of hours with the priests yesterday was a great blessing.  How long I will get to have these experiences, I never know. I fully expect them to go away each time I leave. I prepare my heart to always know that today might be the last time, because I realize full well, I have wandered into the undiscovered country and dangers lurk in every corner.  I write about it because I always intend to be as "transparent" as possible in my adventures. I think that, if I crash and burn, the next person can learn from it.  But grow we must. 
There is too much of a disconnect between the secular world and God's world. One does not inform the other too much these days, and what I see are people suffering so greatly as a result of it.  Kind of like our ridiculous U.S. Congress, each side feels it does not have to compromise. 
Before you become outraged, let me assure you of my understanding of the omniscience and omnipresence of God. Perhaps that is still unclear.  I mean, God wins. God is above all. God is the beginning, the end...the whole damn thing.  But we who live here on the earth, we are not fully connected to God. Whether or not it is right, I want the world to be connected. I see so much suffering and I see the war between the sacred and the secular.  I see the subtle battles being fought daily of "who really is in charge anyway? " Some people want God, but on their own terms...say denominationally, or theologically or psychologically...or whatever.  It is quite a power struggle between the True Good...and a whole lot of little evils.  Some suffering cannot be avoided. But some suffering can be avoided, simply by a bit of humility, a bit of submission...which oddly does not destroy the ego exactly, but refines it to something that does not run the show, but makes the show better.  Clear as mud, right? sigh.

I prayed my divine office last night. One of the priests used my phone yesterday to pray his while I was out in the garden with the other, looking at rows of broccoli and onions and hidden garlic...and rabbit trails...I pray with books because I like to hold the book, smell the pages, feel connected to something old and ancient.
When I finished my duties, I recalled the instruction of another priest. I removed the crucifix from the wall and sat in the chair. (This is not a new activity) How do I keep doing this work? How do I protect the people I care about most?  How will I keep learning if things change drastically, as I suspect they will?  And I see His beautiful hands, nailed to the wood.  I ponder on that often: the hands nailed to the wood, especially in times when I see or experience suffering and pain from which there is no escape.  I see hands nailed to wood. My heart sees hands nailed to wood.  None of us can escape who we are, try as we like...and at some point, we have to remember we are nailed to that cross with Him...that part of us that cannot escape the reality that we do not want to own...it's nailed there with Him. He endures it for us and we endure it with Him and through Him and for Him...because we intuitively know...He did it for us.

Such is real love. To risk everything for the beloved, to hurt for Him, to care for Him, to give up all for Him, to die for Him...because He did it for me...little insignificant, pride-filled me.  Anyway. He loved me anyway. And for me to do anything less...for Him...would be obscene.

I am called to teach that love to anyone who doesn't feel it...all the time...because it's always, in all ways, there.  It can stop wars and killings of every kind. It can heal broken families and broken hearts. 

Hey, Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Most of us are going to see the people we love most on that day...and probably get hurt once or twice by them...and some of us aren't going to see the people we love...and that's going to hurt too. What could have been, what should have been, what was, what is...what might be...
We are all nailed to the cross in some way. Part of us anyway.  But we aren't nailed alone. He's with us. Always.
Maybe if we remember that, we can be more thankful. I hope I can...
Not My Will But Yours, Lord...
NMWBY...

Love, Cindy