I’m not even sure I can write a coherent post today. But even I, the founder of this blog, have been late and missing writing because of the things going on in my life, so today I am going to just write what’s in my heart and pray it makes some sense to some body.
There is just so much going on in the world –
mid-term elections, bomb plots from Yemen, cholera in Haiti, Twitter debates about whether MJ or Prince is a better singer (you know who wins that! *looking at Benee*) –
and in my personal life –
my son’s preschool teacher recommending occupational therapy, my waiting to hear if the abnormal cells on my cervix caused by a high risk strain of HPV that I didn’t know I had are something to worry about, the disgraced pastor at my church starting his own ministry 10 months after his announcement of his “moral failure” –
that I am finally starting to not know the difference between up and down, left and right. And this sense of disorientation was made even more salient to me when, on Halloween night, I had a moment of vertigo, lost my sense of space, and fainted into the wall at a friends house after gobbling down some oh so sweet and sour Lemonheads.
I’m tired, beat down, a little broken, a bit shattered, but completely surrendered. They say religion is the opiate of the masses, and I’ve been smoking a lot. A few weeks back, we officially joined the church we’ve been attending for the last few years. Why we hadn’t joined before then, I can’t truthfully say. Something was certainly holding me back, perhaps the lack of political activism at the church, I don’t know. But recently I’ve found that I don’t care about that stuff, as far as the church goes. I go to church because it is the one place where I feel I can be completely unburdened.
Every Sunday morning, during the time where we sing worship songs, there comes a moment where we can come to the altar and pray. Every Sunday, I take that walk, and kneel, placing my hands at what I imagine to be Jesus’s feet. And I pray. Sometimes I follow along with the person praying at the microphone, saying Amen at the appropriate times, or sometimes I am silent, after first asking the Lord to search my heart and mind for He knows what I want and need before I even stepped foot in the sanctuary that morning. Other times I pray aloud, usually through a waterfall of tears, laying each and every thing that has plagued my body, mind, and spirit over the past week, asking him to take it, asking him to remind me that I can’t do it on my own, and could never do it on my own. Asking him to once again take control of my life.
It may be a total placebo effect. While I believe there is a God and a Jesus who loves me with a love that is unfathomable and can carry my burdens so that I don’t have to and that knowledge makes me feel so grateful and so light, I can concede that it might not be true. I don’t care.
Because right now, it gets me through my day. Belief is enough for me. And I’m believing about something happening right now, not something in the future. I can feel the burdens lifting right now, and I’m not waiting for them to be lifted – they already are. I believe that whatever is happening, there is something for my good in it, and I have to be open and surrendered enough to see it.
This is a huge breakthrough for me. For now I am quiet and contemplative. And I’m waiting. Waiting to see what will happen. But not anxiously waiting, more just like…living. And I’m not afraid, although I am tired and hungry, sometimes in pain. I’m sharing this because I’m open.
Not only has Christianity taught me this, but yoga too. My yogi tea said today:
“When ego is lost, limit is lost. You become infinite, kind, beautiful.”