Mother Theresa's struggle with faith has brought me comfort over the years. In my youth, I was so certain of God in my life and as I've gotten older I feel as though I search for God but rarely sense his presence. When I read about mother Theresa's similar experience I felt comforted and began to see the absence of God as an invitation to spiritual maturity. To trust what I cannot feel, to believe what I cannot understand.
This is my tenth year writing this blog. It has been a beautiful was to force myself to look for God in my life every single day for a season. And, I do find those traces and inspirations that point me towards Christ and the life he calls me to live. I've been convicted and wrestled with my darkness. But if I'm going to be completely honest, I always have this glimmer of hope that somehow if I search hard enough and faithfully enough, God will show up in a flash of lightning, in a dream, a whisper, a certain undeniable moment. I want clarity on my steps in life or affirmation that I'm doing what I should be doing or just the awesome presence of the divine that make believing and trusting so much easier. I want to be Thomas seeing the risen Jesus face to face. To see the nail holes. To touch him.
No Jesus fireworks this year. No brilliant revelations that assure me that I'm walking in step with my maker. Just the steady practices of faith - scripture, prayer, meditation, trying to mold my heart and character after Christ. Failing and trying again. Looking for moments to shine my light and grieving all the darkness that is out there.
I'm a little disappointed that this doesn't get easier year after year. I'm a little disappointed that God is still just beyond my reach.
But still I trust. Still I hold the rhythm and story of this sacred time close to my heart. Still I let myself be drawn to and shaped by the mystery of Christ.
Two more days and we relive the story again. May it come alive to you and me in new and different ways. May the coming joy of Easter well up in each of our hearts.
2 comments:
This may be your best post. Certainly the most relatable.
I think you're on to something. When we are young and impressionable, we rely on the explicit version of the Almighty. We see Him in tornados, new babies, and of course--baseball. (Really, who else could have come up with such a perfect game? Even the ball has 108 stitches.) But then we enter the murkiness of adolescent faith, where moments of doubt speckle our divinity like pimples on our face. (My blessed mother used to tell me it's just the bad blood coming out. Indeed.) Adolescence is full of angst, passion, righteousness, and just about anything else our egos can throw at us. In fact, if doubt is our blemishes, ego must be our hormones! Yet God sits back as cool as a parent who knows enough about what you're going through to know there is nothing He can do about it. But He is there. Always there. Yes, even in times we scream "I hate you!" and slam the bedroom door. "Uh huh, I know."
Adult faith has been my favorite. It comes with clarity. Maybe because I chose my path. Whether to, how to, how much? I chose Buddhism for my adult faith because it fits who I am. All the levers are there for me to grow--acceptance, gratitude, humility, generosity, determination. Truth is, these virtues were there all along in my Catholicism. It just took Buddhism to help me become a better Catholic. Now if doubt comes up, which it rarely does anymore, I have the wisdom of Gautama Shakyamuni and Jesus Christ to guide me back to center. In the end, wisdom is wisdom and something we only acquire after we don't need it anymore.
The Almighty is there. Always there. Implicitly. In the little stuff we don't think about. Like this blog. Like your courage to hang it all out there for us. Like being gifted with five splendid issues from heaven to carry His love forward in the world.
Maybe the mystery of faith can be explained in another bit of His perfection: the seventh inning stretch. No one knows why it's there, but it always feels right.
Deepest gratitude for this comment. I cherish it.
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