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Wednesday
Jul232008
A prayer out-loud
July 23, 2008
Dear You,
The Youest of Yous. The dancing One, the Singing in my blood, the One who moves and breathes and loves me always.
So here we are again, we've been here before. I have a theory that You bring me here on purpose. Is it true?
Because this circle comes around again and again, and now I am at the start, where I'm kicking like a baby, resisting change with all of my might.
We box. You block all of my punches and never hit back.
I run to You, then pull away because I am more than a little upset. Why are You always bringing me to my limits? It doesn't feel fair.
Every day lately I wake up with what feels like a fat furry cat sitting on my chest. It's heavy and I can't breathe and there's that stupid cat dander that makes my eyes itch. I struggle to get out of bed because this cat feels like fear. Where is the fear from? Why is it heavy on me? Whose cat is this, anyways?
I remember the pattern from the past. You remind me, most excellent of friends, when I take the time to listen. You say, "We'll get through this." You say, "We'll be a little closer, my love." You say, "You'll drop a few more of those ideas of yours, the ones about your self-sufficiency, your big plans for yourself, your need to be perfect, to keep it all together, to fix everything by your own small self." You say, "Lean into it, don't push away." You say, "There are greener things than you can imagine, sweeter smelling days than you've ever known. Just wait. Just wait."
But I feel alone and the fear is ever-present and I'm not sure why I have to do this again. Remind me?
I know there is a changing. There is the kicking and the pushing and then slowly my resistance fades, I go limp, I fall in, and then I learn contentment again. It has been this way so many times before. All the places I have been, the homes I have lived in, all the deserts, all the valleys. Even on the peaks. It is the newness I resist, the loss of what has been. It is the small etchings I have carved into the wood in places all around me, reminding me of who I am, of what my name is. Leaving these things brings a tearing that I don't think I could have imagined.
Now I have only You to remind me. You and the faces of my family. It is enough.
And after the tearing comes a divine healing and Your hands surround me and I have obeyed and You have promised. And there are new things, there are sweet things and the ocean will fold over me and not throw me, it will rock me like a child. It is better than before, it is larger and more spacious than clinging to the old ways. You lead me into ever opening rooms.
It is good that we will have a long time together, my Friend. One day I will look back on all of this and say, "You told me so." So just, please, help me now, when I am still blind and foolish and inwardly about two years old.
All my love. You know You have my heart.
Rae
The Youest of Yous. The dancing One, the Singing in my blood, the One who moves and breathes and loves me always.
So here we are again, we've been here before. I have a theory that You bring me here on purpose. Is it true?
Because this circle comes around again and again, and now I am at the start, where I'm kicking like a baby, resisting change with all of my might.
We box. You block all of my punches and never hit back.
I run to You, then pull away because I am more than a little upset. Why are You always bringing me to my limits? It doesn't feel fair.
Every day lately I wake up with what feels like a fat furry cat sitting on my chest. It's heavy and I can't breathe and there's that stupid cat dander that makes my eyes itch. I struggle to get out of bed because this cat feels like fear. Where is the fear from? Why is it heavy on me? Whose cat is this, anyways?
I remember the pattern from the past. You remind me, most excellent of friends, when I take the time to listen. You say, "We'll get through this." You say, "We'll be a little closer, my love." You say, "You'll drop a few more of those ideas of yours, the ones about your self-sufficiency, your big plans for yourself, your need to be perfect, to keep it all together, to fix everything by your own small self." You say, "Lean into it, don't push away." You say, "There are greener things than you can imagine, sweeter smelling days than you've ever known. Just wait. Just wait."
But I feel alone and the fear is ever-present and I'm not sure why I have to do this again. Remind me?
I know there is a changing. There is the kicking and the pushing and then slowly my resistance fades, I go limp, I fall in, and then I learn contentment again. It has been this way so many times before. All the places I have been, the homes I have lived in, all the deserts, all the valleys. Even on the peaks. It is the newness I resist, the loss of what has been. It is the small etchings I have carved into the wood in places all around me, reminding me of who I am, of what my name is. Leaving these things brings a tearing that I don't think I could have imagined.
Now I have only You to remind me. You and the faces of my family. It is enough.
And after the tearing comes a divine healing and Your hands surround me and I have obeyed and You have promised. And there are new things, there are sweet things and the ocean will fold over me and not throw me, it will rock me like a child. It is better than before, it is larger and more spacious than clinging to the old ways. You lead me into ever opening rooms.
It is good that we will have a long time together, my Friend. One day I will look back on all of this and say, "You told me so." So just, please, help me now, when I am still blind and foolish and inwardly about two years old.
All my love. You know You have my heart.
Rae
Reader Comments (20)
Amen
Wow -- thank you for this. It is a well-timed reminder for me! (Though really, when aren't these kinds of prayers well-timed?) Thank you for sharing it.
We had a sermon in church a few months back about the tower of Babel, and one of the lessons that's stuck with me is the idea that it is God's role to name us, not our own. So beautiful! and yet so hard to accept.
Peace to you and yours.
Oh. My. Word. That is just breathtakingly amazing. Thank you so much for that.
I've been reading for a few weeks now and have loved your blog. This writing? Just, wow.
What a struggle - you expressed it so well. Prayers will be with you through this time.
Wow, beautiful.
And now I'm in tears because I've been there too.
God Bless,
With love
Suzy
Me too.
Same Cycle. :) Except I feel like a VERY HEAVY blanket is covering all of me instead of a cat.
Hugs and prayers.
Thank you for this, so beautiful and so so true. When you're far away from everything familiar and you're forced to realize that the material things you're used to are not who you are and you're stripped down to your minimum again so that you are who you are: just you and God. This is what my friends who have gone to Hajj (Pilgrimage) in Mecca tell me it's like, and I've felt it in moving from city to city. You get to know yourself again, but it's so so hard.
God Bless.
I remember a month before my latest child was born, and I was beset by fear. I actually found myself at Trader Joe's vitamin aisle, searching for something. I thought to myself, "What am I looking for?", and I realized what I wanted was a vitamin or herbal remedy that removes fear in general, and fear of childbirth in particular.
Turns out the birth was lovely, peaceful, in water and gentle. After my futile attempts at TJ's, I turned to your Friend, and all was well.
Blessings!!
LOVE this post. Thank you.
transcend: to go beyond the limits of, exceed.
i love you, transcendental and truly unique
Sending my love and prayers. If only I could just hop over there and see you but know that you are in my heart and my prayers and "your friend" will take you through.
Honest and beautiful. You seem to have voiced the insecurities that many of us feel, and reminded us of Love we often forget. Thank you thank you thank you!
No words.
Just tears.
Thank you for putting your faith into words, for sharing that most intimate of gifts for us fellow travelers to read. I've never met you, but we share the same Friend, and I will lift up a prayer for you before I sleep.
You must be so close, Rae.
This was a beautiful post. Timely.
I come to visit you via your blog quite often, but this is my first time to post. Your words make me realize His love more fully, make me want to know Him more, to surrender to more of His heart for me. You so beautifully articulate what I have felt, will feel again. thank you.
Rae,
thank you for sharing your prayer. your words are beautiful. you are beautiful. I love you and you are in my prayers.
I was thinking - reading this again - that this wrestling seems to happen over and over again like you mentioned, but slowly the wrestling times are fewer, with more time in between, as you learn (again) how faithful your and my friend is - know that he only wants the best for us, and that he will never harm us! Jeremiah 29 talks about this!
I love the prayer..
I especially love the lines:
"We box. You block all of my punches and never hit back."
Is there any greater LOVE?
beautiful, rae.