God’s will is not a puzzle to be solved but a mystery to be lived into. It is a mystery whose contours emerge as we journey on.
- Wendy M. Wright,The Rising
quoted in Upper Room Daily Reflections
In the past, I have often looked at the will of God as not only a puzzle, but one that I must figure out to avoid disastrous consequences. This thinking led to much frustration, anxiety, and doubt. To realize that God’s will is a mystery, which means that I may not be able to figure it out when I want to, and that I can live into it is freeing. I can have faith that as long as I continue to take one step after another in this Journey God has me walking, I am on the way to living as God wills.
I stand at the edge of a lush green oasis looking out upon the desert beyond. A man approaches the oasis through the swirling sand. This man does not come seeking refuge. He extends his hand and beckons me with his piercing eyes. I have no wish to leave my place of comfort for that vast wilderness and I know that I do not have to. Yet, finding within me the truth that I cannot stay, I purposefully step onto the hot sand and walk toward the man and his outstretched hand.He guides me a short distance out into the wilderness. I am dressed like a Bedouin now, fit for the desert. Even so the wind whipped sand stings my face and hands. As the sun is setting we arrive at a place that looks no different from anyplace else in this sandy wasteland, but the wind is not blowing here. I feel compelled to kneel before my guide. Out of nowhere he produces bread and handing me a piece says, “This is my body broken for you.” Just as mysteriously a cup appears and as he holds it to my lips he tell me, “This is my blood shed for you.” The bread is coarse and the wine is bitter yet sweet. “Sustenance for your journey,” he adds as he helps me rise to my feet. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
“Go with me,” I cry, suddenly afraid that I will be left alone in this endless sandpit. “I will always be with you, even if you do not see me,” is his certain reply. I can’t go back; I don’t want to go back. I have no choice but to walk into uncertainty.
Whatever may be the tensions and the stresses of a particular day,
there is always lurking close at hand the trailing beauty of forgotten joy
or unremembered peace.
Howard Thurman
When I went to the grocery store last evening I saw as I walked in that flower bouquets were 50% off. I hesitated a moment, then picked one out. It seemed a bit of a splurge even at $3.50, but I’m wondering now if my thinking was amiss. Perhaps those flowers were as important as the food I purchased. I took half the flowers to work and have them in a vase on my desk. It brought me joy today whenever I saw them. I need that reminder of joy in this dismal winter season. I need the moment of peace I gain as I look upon those flowers. I need reminders of joy and peace and if I can get that from a few flowers, even at full price, then just maybe I should splurge on flowers more often.
Brighter, brighter than the sun is the candle of the holy one
The candle He holds is huge, at least half as tall as He stands, and it is burning brightly. I too hold a candle, smaller of course, and unlit. “My candle just won’t stay lit”, I lament. “I light it and it just keeps going out.” He breaths fire from His holy mouth and lights my candle. “Your candle won’t go out anymore”, He tells me. “Arise and go forth; take My Light to your world.”
Bigger, bigger that the sea are the waves of God washing over me
“Let Your waves wash over me”, I pray. “I already have”, He gently replies. “Think about what happens when a big wave washes over a person.” Several things come to mind immediately; a person would get soaked, get knocked over, may feel like she’s drowning, become disoriented, and most certainly would find herself short of breath and gasping for air. She would be glad she survived to tell the story, my thoughts continued, and she might even learn to ride the waves. My thoughts then travel to being knocked over by an illness that made me short of breath, thinking for a few days that I was indeed on my way to breathing my last, and the disorientation of those days in hospital and recovery. I am very, very glad I survived to tell the story; could I possibly learn to ride the waves?
Brighter, brighter than the sun is the candle of the Holy One,
Bigger, bigger than the sea are the waves of God washing over me….
(the above two lines are contained in the chorus of the anthem “Brighter Than the Sun” that was sung today by our choir during the church service)
My school was closed today for the third day in a row due to snow and extreme cold. I did not have a good day. I’m not complaining mind you. Of all the days I’ve spent at home in the past 3 months during my recovery and most recently the “snow days”, this is the first day I can say that I really did not enjoy myself in some measure. I’m restless, and I ate badly so now I feel badly. The only thing I really wanted today was just to rest in the Lord and commune with Jesus. Somehow I couldn’t seem to manage that though.
What is the difference between one day and another I wonder? Some days it is so easy to sense God’s presence and to hear the voice of his spirit within me. It’s nothing I do or do not do; it just happens. Then there are other days that I pray and feel like I’m not even connecting with myself, let alone God. I wonder what I’ve done that He should be so far away, yet I know I’ve done nothing and He is right where He always is, in the midst of all creation. A day like today brings upon me such a feeling of lonliness that I can’t help but be very sad by the end of it.
Lines from a lovely song I knew a long time ago are running through my head. The rest of the song escapes me, but these lines well express the longing in my heart.
I just want to be where You are,
Dwelling daily in Your presence.
I don’t want to worship from afar,
Take me near to where You are.
Amen.
Another day home due to the weather. It ’s snowing here in central Ohio; more snow than I remember seeing for a few years.This is a picture of my rabbit. He’s a house rabbit; meaning that he is litter trained and has the run of my house. He does have his own little area though were his litter box is kept and he can be “locked in” if necessary. This is where I put the pan of snow. He’s never experienced snow before. First he sniffed it, then ate some, then put his front paws in. He really seemed to be enjoying himself, so I got a bigger pan.
After digging around in the snow for a while, my smart little (or not so little actually) bunny decided he’d had enough of the cold stuff and hopped away to warm up in one of his favorite hiding spots.
Snow is fun to play in, but NOT fun to drive in so I’m glad I don’t have to go anyplace. I see that the white stuff is really coming down now. I think I’ll go put on my boots and go get cold for a bit.
I’ve just read another outstanding book by an author that I have mentioned before, Andy Andrews. Island of Saints is an amazing story with the central theme of forgiveness. To paraphrase one of the characters, one can attach one’s whole life to a moment of hurt and allow it to consume and even define one’s very existence. Another character points out that “anger management” simply does not work. We must forgive, and get rid of the anger forever.
My first reaction to that last concept was “not all anger is caused by something that requires forgiveness”, but I didn’t have to ponder too long to realize that this is simply not true. It does seem that all anger can be traced to a moment, or a series of moments, in which a hurt occurs. For instance, I got angry on Friday with a student who would not do his work, disrupted those around him, continually interrupted me when I was talking with other students, and seemed to hear nothing I had to say. As I reflected on this I realized that the real root of my anger could well be that this child acts as though he does not respect my authority. It could also be that he is just plain annoying and I’m mad because it me he is annoying. In any case, I must forgive him for acting the way he does for whatever reason he does so. I also have to forgive myself for letting it get to me and therefore raising my voice a few decibels too high in an effort to control the child. (It worked, but that is beside the point; my reaction was still wrong because it was a reaction caused by anger.)
I pray that as I go about my days ahead that I will recognize anger as it wells up, and recognize who or what I must forgive and then choose to do so. I can see that this is the only hope for any degree of serenity in life!
I have survived the first three days back at work, so I think I’ll be ok! I’m glad it turned out to be a short week with no school Monday and Tuesday, plus we were on one hour delay (to let the busses warm up in the sub zero weather I assume) both Thursday and Friday. I’m not sure I would have made it the whole week otherwise. Every day will get less exhausting though as I get back into the regular routine, and hopefully I won’t need to stay and work until 7:30 pm as I did on Friday. A new student had joined the class in December and turned out to be fairly on track academically but poorly behaved. I feel sorry for the girl, coming from a very bad home situation, but I can’t say I’m sorry that she is moving to another school district this weekend.
It’s a strange feeling to be back in the classroom after being gone for so long. Everything continued without me, and I feel disoriented jumping in again in the middle of the year. With God’s help I can do this.
So many things have changed since going through what I’ve been through. I’m eating better and taking all kinds of supplements, and keeping in mind that I must get enough rest even in the busy-ness of my regular schedule. I’m determined to get healthier physically, emotionally, and spiritually than I have been in a long, long time.I place more value on myself in a way. I mean, I was always ready to put my own needs and desires aside to meet the needs of my family and the demands of my job. Not that this is all bad but I often would do this to my own detriment, either emotionally or physically. The first few days of my illness thought I was finished, my light about to go out, and in the process I found out that I’m more valuable than I will usually allow myself to acknowledge.
I sense changes in many areas of my life that I can’t articulate yet. I do know though that I have been given a gift; a chance to seek change, and the opportunity to walk out the rest of my life differently than I had ever considered. Exactly what this means will become clear in time. I pray that I will be able to keep walking in the changes and that I will hang on this new hope that has welled up in me over the past weeks. Help me dear Jesus. Yes, I can do this.
I’ve decided it’s time to get back to writing.
Today was to be my first day back to work since my illness. Due to extreme cold however, school was cancelled! I’m waiting for the phone call saying that we are off again tomorrow as many schools in the area have already announced that they will be closed. So my first day back is a bit delayed.I believe that yet again God is causing me to work on the development of the gift of fogiveness. I have discovered that my substitute for the past three months apparantly did not do such a great job. I won’t know just how bad things are until I’m back in my classroom for a few days. This is very upsetting to me. Where was the supervision my principal should have been offering, I wonder? I could go on, but I’d best not. Then there were the events of today.
We are blessed to have a fireplace in our home. There is a gas line running to it with a valve, so that you can start the fire “easily”. We had never used it and didn’t know if the valve was on or off by the fireplace; we only knew that the gas was turned off in the basement. I had no desire to ever turn on the gas and had voiced that opinion many times. I think it’s a whimpy way to start a fire and I’m afraid of blowing the house up. Well, hubby got it into his head that he’d just turn the gas on and start a fire the easy way this morning. Problem was, by the time he got up from the basement the house was filled with gas fumes because the valve by the fireplace was wide open.
I ended up spending all morning at the local coffee shop. I figured the last thing I needed was to be inhaling toxic fumes of any sort. When I got home I found hubby lounging in his chair reading a book, completely oblivious to the fact the house still smelled nearly as bad as it did when I left. By God’s grace I was patient as I explained that he needed to turn off the furnace and open windows on both sides of the house for at least an hour. Then I left for the library.
Hungry and feeling sick from the cinnamon roll I’d eaten at the coffee shop, I drove through a fast food place for lunch on my way to the library. That’s when it hit me.
“I’m way too angry”, I thought. “This anger/stress is only going to hurt me, so I have to let it go.” Furthermore, I knew that I had to forgive dear hubby for what I considered to be a totally mindless and thoughtless act. After a few hours at the library I got in the car to return home, knowing that I had forgiven and hoping that I’d be able to stay home once I got there.
As I write this the house smells fine and there’s a nice fire in the fireplace that was started the whimpy way. Hubby is still mentally kicking himself even though I told him that I forgive him, and I’m just weary. School has officially been called off for tomorrow and I am praying for the grace to make the most of the gift of the day.
Books
I enjoy reading and I love books. Books have been a sort of comfort food for my soul throughout the years, and while I’ve never had the money to be a fanatic about buying books I still seem to have plenty on my shelves. It’s difficult for me to part with a book, even if I have not read it for years. I did part with quite a few when I moved nearly two years ago, selling them at moving sales or giving them away. Books tend to be heavy and I didn’t care to move all of them. For the most part I haven’t missed a one and am glad that I was able to simplify a bit. My college age daughter sold a few text books on Amazon.com recently and got good money for them. So I have been searching my bookshelves for books to sell myself. I’ve sold a few, but many of the books I happen to have and don’t really want are in abundance in the “for sale” marketplace, so I couldn’t make enough for it to be worth my time selling them.
I’m finding some interesting things sorting through the bookshelves. A good number of the books I own are written on some spiritual or theological topic. As I glance through some of them I find that I don’t agree with what the author is saying, but I know that I did at one time. My beliefs have changed, or perhaps developed is a more accurate way of putting it. Many books deal with “finding God” in one way or another. I don’t feel quite so compelled to read those books anymore because I am so much more secure in my relationship with God that I once was. I do not have to chase God or seek supernatural “miraculous” manifestations; I meet God in a supernatural manner every Sunday in the Eucharist and I’ve learned that if and when anything truely miraculous is going to happen I will have had nothing to do with it. God is so far beyond and above what I ever imagined, and I simply don’t try to figure it all out anymore. I’ve come to value the mystery of The Great Mystery.
Other types of books on my shelves include professional texts, children’s books left over from my own childhood and that of my children, informational volumes on one topic or another, and old books. I hesitate to call the old books antique, most of them are worth little but I like the way they look on the shelf. I have a growing collection of books by my favorite author, Madeleine L’Engle, a few volumes of poetry, and some of those little “memento books” that are fairly useless but were given to me as gifts so I keep them. I also have a small collection of old children’s readers that I keep for no other reason than that I teach children to read. I even have one that I think I remember reading in school as a young child. I have found a number of books that I have never read. I still plan to read them sometime, I think. I keep a small stock of paperback novels purchased at yard sales so I have something to read should the public library burn down, or I get snowed in or something. My least favorite books are the cookbooks, because I’d rather not be bothered with cooking.
Books are so much more than paper and ink; they form an integral thread in the life fabric of their readers. What’s on your bookshelf?