There are people who are straight arrows. Some who seem to fly down the path of life, disciplined, focused no matter what they do. In the spiritual life the stay on the path, pray always at the appointed time, energetic and centered. I have no doubt that God is very pleased with these warriors who are so filled with love of God. I know I have great respect for them, for I am in no way like that.
I think that am often in a flight pattern flying around in circles, a dip here, a near crash there, the interior of the plane not too tidy, or perhaps at times chaotic, just circling. Some run the race, others walk, well I crawl, a slow tedious process at times; yet it is my own fault. I can be quite lazy, when it comes to my being disciplined in keeping a set schedule, at other times so restless that I can’t really sit still long enough to center. Again I just get stubborn and don’t do anything, which orphans my soul, making the world a vast desert where I breathe in only dry dust, thirsty for something so deep that I can no longer feel it.
Yet I pray. I still call out even in rebellion. When I am crushed by my own misery and can barely stand myself, yet I feel myself still reaching out to the infinite. Filled with self loathing, yet I seek love and healing. Torn within, I cannot escape God’s haunting presence, the light deep within that always breaks through. For in the end, prayer, no matter how weak, or shallow, is an invitation of grace, of love seeking when the beloved wanders. Boy do I wander. I don’t know why I can be so unstable in my walk with God; in the end perhaps in a way it does not matter, for God is stable, true, love.
Despair is not an option, for I always feel God’s gentle invitation to simply be in His presence, often experienced as the most loving of mothers. Julian of Norwich once used the phrase that points to this experience. She said that “Jesus is our mother”. Perhaps I am so thick, that I need to crawl, to fall, so that I can slowly learn that I am truly loved, sought after by God. When this truth starts to sink in, I find myself moving towards doubt, for how can this be?
It is easier to believe in nothing, that this world is brought about by chance, that the atheist is right. I would find this a relief at times, for the thought of infinite love, in pursuit of me, can be daunting, besides being very hard to process intellectually. Yet on the level of my intuition, feelings and emotions, it rings true. So I ‘choose’ to believe. To get up, allow the divine embrace to envelope me. It causes my heart at times to bleed, to think of this. Love, that which I often spurn seeks me. It seeks us all, for I am truly not special, well we all are. Hard to believe in a world filled with horror, pain, tragedy, yet I believe this to be true. For love is not sentiment, when the scripture says that “love is stronger than death”, well believe it, it is hard, unrelenting, at times seeming cruel, yet it is infinite love seeking all. I still don’t understand. Yet when I call to God, it is because he is first calling me, it is all grace.
