Leftover Love

I've been coming to terms, more and more lately, with the idea of how much things change and relationships shift and one day you realize that your world is permanently different than it used to be 5 or 10 years ago, and perhaps different than you ever dreamed it would be. 

At least, it is for me. 

There's not even necessarily a good or bad judgment to this fact, simply an acknowledgement of what is.  There are things that I will never again see, places I will never again go, and friends that I will never again see.  And I've been wondering, and struggling, with how to accept that and let go of it, to love and honor the past as blessings from God in that time and place, and not wallow in the sadness of "change". 

The hardest part, of course, is the relationships.  As my move away from Iowa and my home congregation becomes permanent, how do I let the people go...how do I process the fact that individuals who were so important to me, are people that I will never share a cup of coffee with again?  As I leave seminary, how do I deal with the fact that people who have "made my day", every day, aren't next to me to count powerpoint slides in class or say something incredibly profound or smile at me from across the room?  As I become absorbed in a career, and more and more demands are placed on my time, how do I deal with losing those who re-energized me? 

I stumbled across this poem written by Hrabanus Maurus that has helped.  It has given me words to entrust all the people I love to Christ, to honor them as gifts, and to await the day when I will see them again.  I just love this:

Then live, my strength, anchor of weary ships,
Safe shore and land at last, thou, for my wreck,
My honour, thou, and my abiding rest,
My city safe for a bewildered heart.
That though the plains and mountains and the sea
Between us are, that which no earth can hold
Still follows thee, and love’s own singing follows,
Longing that all things may be well with thee.
Christ who first gave thee for a friend to me,
Christ keep thee well, where’er thou art, for me.
Earth’s self shall go and the swift wheel of heaven
Perish and pass, before our love shall cease.
Do but remember me, as I do thee,
And God, who brought us on this earth together,
Bring us together to his house of heaven.
~ Hrabanus Maurus

I also think part of the struggle for me is that I have no one and nothing to replace the people that I love, who have been part of my daily life.  Wesley Hill, writing for First Things, explores "Celibacy and Friendship 'After 30'", by discussing a New York Times article that explains how difficult it is to find meaningful relationships as a single adult.  He raises a lot of issues (and in the end, admits that he doesn't have it all figured out), but one thing that really struck me was the idea that, "a big part of what we celibate people are seeking isn’t just to be the recipients of sacrificial love but to be able to give it—we want to be able to make soup for someone who’s sick, not just have someone who will make soup for us when we’re sick." 

Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes.  Facebook is great, usually, and my phone works, as well as my writing hand.  And so I keep in touch (mostly) with the people I care so deeply about.  But they are now "phone friends", the kind that you want to spend three hours talking to, and so you put them on your to-do list until you can find three hours, and somehow, you never do.  They are no longer the friends that you call and say, "I'm headed your way, do you want meet me in an hour?" or "I'm bored, want to go see a movie?" or even "I haven't seen you in a while - let's do lunch on Tuesday."  And that happens.  But while the people I care so deeply about have been relegated to "long-distance friends", the space in my life has not been filled.  "Giving love" to those whom I care about, long-distance, is so hard, and I have no real recipients - or at least, that's how I feel.  The ones I love have not been replaced, they are simply missed. 

Yes, Christ calls us to leave home and family, and not put our hand back to the plow.  But it is also not good that we be alone.  And I just don't know how to balance those two right now.  Someone once said that "grief is just leftover love", which I think is a beautiful way of looking at it.  As I by necessity become more separated from so much that I used to know, I realize that I've got a lot of leftover love to go around...

Matthew 16:18b

The gates of hell will not prevail.  The gates of hell will not prevail.  The gates of hell will not prevail.

Jesus, help me to remember this promise today.  

Who Loves Prayer?

I've been superstressed out lately about some stuff, or maybe just letting myself get stressed out about stuff that's not actually that important. I think some measure of it is harassment from the devil, but some of it is just lack of faithfulness and confidence and hope on my part.

But this is why it's so important to be grounded in the Word, in the actual text of the Scriptures, so that when you feel like there's nowhere to turn, God can bring them to your mind.

Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.  Discipline yourselves, keep alert.  Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.  Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering.  And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you.  ~ 1 Peter 5:7-10

If you don't have at least a word or two of that bouncing around in the back of your head somewhere, you're unlikely to find it when you need it.

But beyond that, I realized today, all of a sudden (duh), that prayer is such an incredible gift.  When we don't know the answers to things (important things, not what color socks to wear today), we can pray about it.  God hears our prayers, wants good for us more than even we ourselves do, and will lead us, guide us, and give us the answers, if we're ready to hear. 

If we have something bottled up inside that we just need to get out, and don't feel like we have anyone we can tell, God's there for that to.  He's always listening, always available, isn't trying to figure out how he's going to one-up your story with one of his own.

If we're just confused and don't know what we're feeling or thinking, He's big enough to handle that, and to help us sort it out.

Imagine if we had a God who didn't have time for us, who played mind games with us, who had more important things than us.  Imagine if we had a God that we had to placate with burnt offerings to win his favor, or who only held special councils that decreed unchangeable orders.

Imagine if we had a God who didn't really love us. 

Praise Him that we don't!  Praise Him that He has given us Jesus Christ, "who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.  Who will separate us from the love of Christ?  Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?...No, in all these things, we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Alleluia!

The Obligatory Charlie Sheen Post

I honestly feel nothing but compassion for Charlie Sheen.  It's clear to anybody with eyes...or ears...or the slightest amount of common sense, that the man has huge problems.  Look, there are plenty of people who are addicted to alcohol, drugs, and sex.  There are plenty of people who are just obnoxious cads.  (I went to high school with several of them.)  But watching Sheen lately (not even really intentionally, just the random stuff you can't avoid), you can tell he's gone beyond obnoxious loser, and into full-on "'round the bend" territory, wildly careening on black ice towards a hell of a train wreck. 

Kudos to his dad, Martin Sheen (who changed his last name from Estevez to Sheen in honor of Bishop Fulton Sheen), for saying that he intends to love his son, no matter what. 

Honestly, I don't know how anyone can see a picture of him, or hear the bizzare rants issuing from his mouth, and not just drop to their knees in prayer for the poor guy.  Yeah, he's made some rotten decisions, and done some terrible things, and hurt a lot of people.  But then, haven't we all?  I'm not trying to excuse or paper over any of that.  And not that there aren't millions of people out there with problems as bad or worse as Charlie Sheen's.  But there's something particularly horrific about having your issues play out in public, that for some reason, drives me to pray for him all the more.  (I felt the same way about Michael Jackson. )

Given the devoted-if-somewhat-rebellious-and-highly-liberal Catholicism of Martin, one presumes Charlie is baptized.  And the thing is, I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.  So I'm praying tonight that Jesus would intervene powerfully in the life of Charlie Sheen, right now, and begin the process of bringing him back to the abundant life He desires for His children.

Thoughts on Prayer

So, I was visiting a parishioner in the hospital the other day, and I dropped by the hospital chapel, just too scope it out.  I picked up a brochure detailing the services offered, and was interested to find that it contained some general "Prayers for Healing."  Here, I will give you two of them - see if you can identify the differences:

Prayer One:
"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Lord Jesus Christ, my Redeemer, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, cure me of my weakness, heal me of the sickness, and forgive my sins.  Expel all afflictions of my mind and body.  Mercifully restore me to full health.  You are my Lord for ever.  Amen."

Prayer Two:
"O God, the Source of all health and healing, so fill my heart with faith that with calm expectancy I may receive Your power to help me in this time of my need.  By Your grace and mercy through Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, forgive my sin, heal my spirit, mind and body, and be present with me.  Guide my doctors, nurses, and other staff by Your counsel so they will have skill, wisdom and ability to help me.  Amen."

Okay, ready? 

Questions About Prayer

So...all the people I would ask about this are, well, not available at the moment.  And I should probably stop drafting people into being my pseudo-spiritual directors anyway.  So I'm going to post this up for blogland (all 4 of you) to comment on.

I feel like I'm in a..."season of prayer," as my evangelical friends might say, wherein I am stuck in "adoration" or "thanksgiving" (according to the ACTS model of prayer). 

What I mean is this:  Whenever I settle down and actually focus on prayer, nearly all the time, what flows most freely, with hardly any effort on my part, are the thanksgivings.  Thank you God for this-person-and-that-person, this-blessing-and-that-blessing, the way you reveal yourself to me when I have no idea why you would want to do that for me, this-thing-and-that-thing, the love and care shown to me by other people, etc...

It's a great feeling, really.  It feels so good to just...love God...and give Him the praise and thanksgiving that is obviously due him.  But it's strange how a) natural and...smooth this particular aspect of prayer has been lately, and b) difficult it is to pray for anything else right now.  Every time I make a conscious effort to pray either for myself (generally things like guidance, direction, discernment, strength, etc...) or others (any kind of intercession at all), it's just...hard.  My mind keeps drifting back to praise and thanksgiving for the way He's already been at work in those specific situations. 

So my questions are this: are there such things as "seasons" in one's prayer life?  I believe that certain people are called to pray for certain things - are some "assigned" or "gifted for" prayer of a certain "type"?  Am I crazy?  Sacreligious?  Why is it so hard for me to intercede for others right now? 

Thoughts, anyone?

Random, Middle 'o' the Night Thoughts

I came across this tonight, from Thomas Merton in Thoughts in Solitude:

"MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."

It reminds me a lot of the Holden Prayer for Good Courage:

"Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out in good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen." 

In other news, God works in mysterious ways (as though I didn't already know that).  I was listening to a sermon from my home church tonight, and realizing that what Pastor Mike was talking about was something I really needed to focus on - reclaiming the joy in my faith.  There was a time in my life when my faith was almost entirely about joy, and there are times when it's more intellectual (and I find that the joy actually comes when I get to be really intellectually engaged, but that's a different story...), but more recently it's been that "God is really messing with me, and that's a good thing, but a really hard thing, and it's not always the most joyful time, even though I can recognize that it's going to be good at the end" kind of faith.
 

At The Gate Of The Year

I found this poem somewhere the other day, and it really means a lot to me as I venture off into this year of internship. It's just beautiful in general, but as I look outward, nervous and excited about what lies ahead, about what will be revealed to me about myself, my ministry, my vocation, it gives me perspective.  Enjoy!

At the Gate of the Year
by Minnie Louise Haskins

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: "Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown."
And he replied:
"Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God.  That shall be better to you than light and safer than a known way."
So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.  And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.

So heart bestill:
What need our little life
Our human life to know,
If God hath comprehension?
In all the dizzy strife
Of things both high and low,
God hideth His intention.

God knows.  His will
Is best.  The stretch of years
Which wind ahead, so dim
To our imperfect vision,
Are clear to God.  Our fears
Are premature; In Him,
All time hath full provision

Then rest: until
God moves to lift the veil
From our impatient eyes,
When, as the sweeter features
Of Life's stern face we hail,
Fair beyond all surmise
God's thought around His creatures
Our mind shall fill.