Becoming as I'm Waiting

Above all, trust in the slow work of God. We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. Only God could say what this new spirit gradually forming within us will be. Let us give God the benefit of believing that God’s hand is leading us, and let’s accept the anxiety of feeling ourselves in suspense and incomplete. -Teilhard de Chardin

 This prayer came up during my time at the Living School Symposium. Let me tell you, I feel it deeply. I feel in suspense and incomplete.

I had another experience during the gathering. A group went on a walking prayer/meditation. The leader encouraged us to consider hugging a tree along the way. I saw a little tree that didn't quite fit with the rest, not quite fully grown but also not brand new. Not along the path but not a centerpiece either. I went and hugged her, and laughed at myself for being a literal tree-hugger.

Until my laughter gave way to tears. I realized that as I was holding this tree it was growing beneath my finger tips. The surface seemed still and stationary, but inside of it cells were multiplying and growing and producing new leaves. Me standing there did nothing to give to or take from the tree. It would continue to do what it was made to do- to reach toward Heaven. Because it has no choice but to grow. It may grow crooked, quickly or slowly. But it will grow. It IS growing at all times.

Like dough left in a dark corner to rise. In my times of silence and prayer I am actively doing nothing, I am letting the dough rest. And as it rests in the darkness, it grows to what it needs to be.

I am desperate to heal the dark parts of my soul. I am waiting to heal. Yet I am also beginning to realize that as I wait for the healing, it is already happening to me. Because nothing can stop me from being what I was created to be.

Like the tree grows as I wait for it to grow. 

Like the dough rises as I wait for it to rise. 

I am healing as I wait to be healed, 

I am becoming as I am waiting. 

Empty

Years ago I went through a crisis of faith. In desperation I came to my dad crying. I felt as though I had built my entire life in a house called Christianity. Now the very foundation of all I had built was crumbling. I was homeless.

In wisdom and love he responded, "You have to tear down the house you were given, and on the foundation you will build a new home that is all your own."

I held onto that during the crisis, the hope of building something new.

But recently I realized that Christianity was only one of the rooms in this house of mine. I stayed there because it was the only place I felt safe. Meanwhile I locked all the other doors. In dark corners I hid pieces of me, hoping they would fade away one day. Now I must open all of these rooms, bring it all out to the surface. Take a good, hard look at trauma untouched and lies held tightly. Shine a light on the dark fears of future roles and relationships.

I was told this was a year of cleaning sacred spaces, but I have to confess some of these rooms feel profane. Everything I thought I was, everything I wanted to be, none of it fits anymore. My faith, my childhood, my dreams, my relationships, my skills... None of it is what I thought it was.

I am empty. None of who I used to be remains.

Yet the beauty of all of this is that I finally see the foundation. I see that beneath all of the ways I define myself, there is who I actually am- a conduit of the Divine... a Spirit... a child of God... a piece of Love. As scary as it is to be empty, it is worth it to be held.