Does anyone write something where something has been already written?
"Freedom, O Freedom!" is the cry of the soul. --Vivekananda, "What is Religion?"
Dear God:
I have learned something in these past weeks. I have learned that philosopher Thomas Kuhn was on the right track when he said that paradigms change radically and quickly in response to some crisis. I have been more radically taken apart and put back together since classes ended last spring than at any other period. Yet, looking back, I can see clearly that these changes have been a long time coming--that I have been holding them back, in fact. I think Malcolm Gladwell's "tipping point" theory more precisely captures what has been happening with me: a slow buildup of pressure over so long a time as to render it unnoticeable, followed by an exponential acceleration and release precipitated by an event whose consequences were unforeseen. So now, something I have long toyed with wanting, played at wanting, considered the possibility of wanting some day: I actually want it now--intensely want it.
I want to die.
(No, not like that, friends--keep reading.)
Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains a grain, and nothing more--but if it dies, it bears much fruit.
God, help me to bear fruit; help me to die.
I am so heartily weary of myself. My every breath shouts, “I, I, I, I, I.” Let me disappear to myself; give me rest from the unremitting labor of self-assertion. Let me be a witness, an observer, a passerby.
All my life, I have asked You to help me, but what I have actually meant is, Do it for me. I have asked You for strength, but what I have wanted is ease. I would have every valley raised, every mountain made low—but without my having to die first. I do not ask You for this any longer. I ask to die.
I do not ask You to help me find the way You have set before me. I do not even know that You have set one, and such as there is to find, I understand now that I must find myself. Help me to look, to listen. Help me to quiet the roaring in my head that shouts down Your still, small voice. I have barricaded myself against You, and I do not ask You to storm the barricades; I ask only that I may persevere in dismantling them myself.
My world is a sealed room, arranged just the way I like it. Only it isn’t: the windows leak, the door doesn’t latch, and I am forever fighting to keep my room the way I want it. Help me open up my room to the whole noisy, untidy world; I am weary of defending it.[i]
My universe has been so narrow, and I have tried to confine You within its compass. (Forgive me; I did it in love.) You set the seas their boundaries which they may not cross, but Your children You have created for freedom. You have not received the spirit of slaves that leads you into fear again. Rather, you have received the spirit of God's adopted children by which we call out, "Abba! Father!"
Now, if any would say, “You must use these songs, these sacraments,” I will not listen; and if any would set themselves up between me and You, I will not heed them; and if any would deny the freedom of my soul, they shall be to me as a venomous serpent: a splendid creation of Yours, to be avoided for my own safety.
And surely Vivekananda discerned You;
And if any would chant Om to the Resplendent Lord, I would be a bhakta among them;
Let me never try to force You back into that narrow space;
My little girl wants to walk along the top of a wall. “Hold my hand, Daddy,” she says. She is eager to walk, but unsteady and fearful. Steady my footsteps; bolster my willing but timorous spirit. At the right time, take away Your hand.
I am learning.
You express my own heart. And via such beautiful writing. So glad I found you.
ReplyDelete- Scrubby Pine (Episcopal chorister, Zen devotee)
Thanks, Scrubby--welcome!
ReplyDeleteI think you and I are both living Gladwells tipping point theory, though for different reasons. Thank you for posting this today, I really needed to see it, and it helped with some of what I'm going through right now.
ReplyDeleteI love you dearly my friend!
i love it!!! Your post reminds me of a poem that I read awhile ago. The author is unknown, but I have a hunch a friend of mine at college wrote it, although I don't think he would ever admit it. Its amazing what you can learn when you just change the question in the prayer and actually mean it.
ReplyDeleteLord I pray not that you would show me the future
I pray that you would help me forget my past
I pray not for all the answers
I pray not for an ease that lasts
Lord I've seen the dangers of ease
I've felt the blessings of pain
I've felt the humbling of greatness
I've felt the glory of shame
Lord you came through when I didn't want you to
You've let me stumble toward the light
You've never left me alone in all my sin
You've heard me crying in the night.
And Lord, after all I've been through
I cannot ask for ease
I shall not ask for simple pleasures
For You are not here just to appease
So Lord I ask for darkness
and Lord I ask for light
Lord I ask for joyous days
and also Joyless nights
Lord I ask you hear my heart
And know what's on my mind
but Lord, please make it more like Yours
and less and less like mine.
I shall not ask for answers
some things are better left unknown
but I ask for a peace that I cannot understand
and a loving hand to guide me home.
Thanks for sharing your struggles with the world!! What an encouragement for me.