As I settle into another Christian season in the wilderness, my heart has settled on my focus. Prayerful that this turns into a constant conversion of my heart.
To welcome God in - to a deeper dwelling place in my very soul. I thirst for more from him.
I wonder, often, how God has the power and energy to take all of us as we come to him. He is the supremest of beings so of course my pathetic human wonderings are nothing compared to the scope of his Love.
How will I make room for more God in my life?
The Lenten Season suggests we fast. I've never been too committed to that - to be honest, mostly because I fail, many times, and in the end feel defeated and disappointed by my human-ness.
Which isn't what God wants for me, this I know.
This season I am fasting - from social media. It's a cesspit, as most of us know. Yet it is a good way to keep in touch with friends, near & distant. And still, each of my encounters with Facebook in particular leave me feeling deflated, irritable, and even angry.
Not the best mental place to welcome God into my mind, body, heart, and soul.
Spending time with God - reading, studying, journaling - will be the order of my coming days. With prayer and meditation, I hope this will become part of my life instead of just a season.
In Lent, we recall the people of Israel's tendency to wander off and forget God, and we revisit the Lord's patient and repeated call to return. We find ourselves within that very same dynamic, marked by the patterns of wandering and longing to return.
That - is my call. That - is the journey I have set my feet upon.
Yes - a bit of a different presentation of a Christian song. Skillet is actually one of my favorite Christian rock bands. Their aggressive sound, with John Cooper's relentless, driving, whiskey-soaked voice, gives the center of my soul a big ole boost of energy & passion.
"Invincible" is the sort of hard-driving song I need right now. It is a reminder - loud & poetic - that God is my salvation. He is my right arm, left arm, and all the in-between spaces.
I do feel a bit chewed up and spit out right now. It is times like these that can be difficult for us to "see the forest for the trees". We get so focused on the minutiae, the thousands of tiny things that beg for our attention - to distract us from the one big thing that is all we need to see.
God - is by our side. All day, every day. Even when we can't see him, feel him, or even wish to acknowledge him.
He remains. Surrounding us with love - so we can face the day with his invincible presence.
Notice that it doesn't say where. Or how. Doesn't even indicate when.
Just an uncomplicated call to worship.
I sometimes think we put too much emphasis on the where or when, and spend no time on the how. Think of the places Jesus and his disciples worshipped.
Roadsides. Camps. Wilderness. On a mountainside. No one cared what people wore when they came to worship. Jesus didn't say it had to be a certain day of the week when you prayed. All he asked is that you did - pray.
Worship.
Come! Just as you are before your God.
So many people stress the need to go to church in their "Sunday best". I was certainly raised in that mindset. And I understand why - if you are going to worship in a holy place you should take great care with how you look. You will be in the presence of God and he deserves that kind of attention to detail.
Or does he?
To be sure it is respectful to be properly dressed when going to any kind of church. But I believe that God is more interested in us, than in our fashions.
God - wants our hearts. He wants all of us - body, mind, soul. The wrappings don't really matter. It's that we give ourselves to him. However we can.
Garb yourself a beverage. Settle down in your most comfy chair. I have a story to tell.
Twelve years ago I found myself in a dark place. My family was in shambles - arguments, petty bickering, and long-standing abuses had coalesced into a sort of dystopian existence for me. I was, for the first time in my 40+ years on this planet, divided from my family, irrevocably. I was rapidly sinking in a wide sea of pain and loss. Sinking, even, too deep for salvation.
Salvation. We'll get to that in a bit.
Conversations began about a possible return to church. We hadn't been in over 20 years (see dystopian reality above). We, well I really, felt a strong pull to join something bigger than me. Something that might give me purpose.
Oh hell - let's be honest. I was looking for a life raft.
Easter Morning, 2010 - hubby & I are outside, ready to go to his family's for Easter dinner. As if from heaven itself we heard the bells of a nearby church. Now, we'd lived in our home for over 20 years at that point and never, in all that time, had we heard these bells. Not once.
We took it as a sign (which of course, it was; I've likened it to a 2X4 upside the head, from God). The next weekend we quietly began a return to church. Our small town is blessed with churches of nearly all Christian practices so...we began a round-robin of attendance. Figuring one of them would, eventually, resonate with us. We had no timetable. As I've said many times, God's Time is not something we can calculate or understand. We figured when it was "time", God would let us know.
Funny how that works.
We started with the Catholic Church. We tried all the others, in turn. Returned to a few of them here and there, but we just kept being called to the Catholic Church.
Sure - the people were kind and welcoming. The priest was charismatic, funny, and a man of profound faith. The Church is 1.5 miles from our home. It's a small, country church nestled in our beautiful, rural, picturesque village.
And yet - I found something there I didn't know I needed. I didn't know I could belong to. I found something my battered spirit, shattered heart, and scarred soul yearned for without my knowing it.
Home.
In the 12 years since being called back to church, and finding a home in the Catholic Faith - I have fallen deeply in love with God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit. And quite surprisingly for someone raised in a Christian, evangelical, fundamental faith - I found rituals.
My former faith "threw shade" (that's being kind) at the Catholic Church. Phrases like "the vain repetitions of the heathen" were spoken frequently and with deep loathing for the imagined subject. Yet, 12 years ago I also fell in love with the ritual identity of being Catholic.
It's hard to describe the feeling. Going from an austere aesthetic that derided even a whiff of "ritual" to the very foundation of rituals in Christian life - was a harsh pivot to make.
Yet I made it with gratitude and thanksgiving. I won't say it was easy, exactly. Rather it felt natural, like this is what I should have been doing all my life.
Home. My home. Where I belong. And even now, 12 years later, every time I hear my voice united in prayer with my friends - I say a side prayer thanking God for saving me. For calling me out of the darkness. For bringing me in from the wilderness of my wanderings.
Salvation. In the purest sense of the word, God saved me. From my family, my pain, my loss, myself. He brought me HOME, to the rituals of being Catholic. To his love, that reckless love that could only come from him.
I couldn't earn it, and I don't deserve it, still, You give Yourself away
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
Overwhelming love of God.
That the King of the Universe would love - me. A sinner. An imperfect being prone to selfishness and judgement would be loved by God. Could be loved by God.
Not in the simple, human understanding of the word. Can we humans love with wild abandon? We believe we do - in our limited view of things. But can we put aside our own wants, needs, and ego to fully give ourselves to another being?
As much as I'd like to say yes - I know that's just not possible.
Yet the most supreme being in all the universe - not only loves us, but does so without ceasing and recklessly.
Now ... the normal definition of "reckless" is to act without caution, without regard to the consequences of those actions.
But does "normal" ever apply to the King of the Universe?
No.
God's reckless love for us is beyond our comprehension. Beyond our ability to understand time, relationships, and even - love.
To love us recklessly is for God to give us his love without regard for our human-ness. Regardless of our egos, behaviors, and the fact that we are but lowly sinners - God's ceaseless love is the one thing we can count on every single day.
For whether we ascend to heaven (or the highest heights of humanity) or dwell in the depths (our lowest points) - He is there. (Psalm 139:8).
No matter what we do - or don't do - God is with us. Walking before us (or beside us), supporting us, guiding us, guarding us, protecting us. Whether we want him to or not; whether we embrace or reject him.
I'm still in Godspell-mode. The simplicity of this classic musical belies the intensity of the underlying emotions. The beliefs so cleanly stated.
She begins with..."Master".
Then tells him her most heartfelt prayer. What she wants more than anything. The deepest desire of her soul.
She tells her Master how she wants to live her life.
See him. Love him. Follow him.
And not just that - but more every single day. Day by day - to have more of the same.
Clarity. Love. Obedience.
How simple.
Oh - I'm sure it wasn't simple for the Apostles. Leaving families, friends, a roof over their heads...to follow a possible crackpot. A man who promised them a world they wouldn't live to see.
Jesus promised them - eternal life. Follow him. Love him. See him. And have life everlasting ... by his side.
And here we are - 2000 years later - and in faith, still longing to See Him, Love Him, Follow Him. A perfect prescription for faith, for that deep longing within each of us.
Like the Apostle in Godspell - from the deepest part of my existence - Master, I want to see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, and follow thee more nearly.
