Sunday, January 21, 2007

My dearest God,

In the early days of December, 2006 I prayed for clarity as to how I would honor Advent and Christmas. I asked God for help. Such transparency does not usually come to me as it did this year. Specific items. A note to a family member. Gift purchases in one day. A letter of apology. Sightings of eternity. A Christmas event calendar date chosen by others. A note to a daughter. I earnestly followed God's direction. But Christmas came and went with one item not yet accomplished. I knew it would be hard; but then so were the others.

I know timing is all important. I know a "right" spirit is a must. I know leaving a promise dangling can erode relationships. I know follow through on God's leading is so valuable to the partnership God and humans share. I knew what I had said I would do, not to anyone else, but to God. I wanted to do it. I wasn't quite sure how. It wasn't all about me.

I had to take a leap of faith. Trust had to be at the heart of the issue. I needed to surrender myself into God's hands. I had to be open, vulnerable, honest.

With fertile soil of faith, I dug in, trusting God was with me, guiding me. I was not alone. I was boldly truthful, even though I knew my words would cut. I was calm, at peace. Truth has peace at its center. I opened myself, revealing an insight, really a miracle. A conversation like never before unfolded. First step.

The second step seemed natural. Yet, fear nagged at the back of my mind. I kept putting it off. God shifted. And in the shifting I went along. I abandoned myself into God's arms. I took a deep breath, a breath of spirit power. And I fulfilled God's asking. I broke through the barrier, not at breakneck speed, but rather a gentle penetration, removing the obstacle that stood between God and me.

This morning I am refreshed. My offerings to God completed, a little late.

I recognize that the meaning of Christmas goes way beyond commercialism. We have lost ourselves in a custom that fell off the deep end. We lost our way. Most of us never even get close to Christmas, the intention of meeting God. It's all about food, family, gifts, spending money, decorating. While all these can bring a sense of fun and meaning, the true gift of Christmas is left wrapped, the present never opened, left to gather dust for another year. In fact it gets packed away with the tree ornaments, lights, angels, and snowmen. The best gift under the tree never gets opened. Year after year.

I approached Christmas differently. On my renewal I discovered the meaninglessness of some of my activities. I recognized my mistaken focus. I found what I was missing. I decided to make a change for the sake of Christ.

On Sunday I unwrapped the gift fully. I saw Christ, the rays of his light filling my home. Christmas was at last here, the intention of God. I sensed a delight in the Creator, a child's return to the home of God. A coming together, a realization of the spirit's bond. I didn't need a tree or lights or chocolate fudge or fancy-wrapped gifts or china dishes. The truth of Christmas revealed.

I take a lot of side trips, veering off the God-laden path. Short trips to nowhere or somewhere I really don't want to visit. I get lost, mixed up, confused. What I grasp for evaporates in my hand. Substitutes, all substitutes, cheap fakes of the real thing.

I want every road I travel to wind up at the home of God. I want to walk into the warmth of his light, knowing I have found my way. I want to dance and sing for God as a token of my love, affection and loyalty. I want to breathe spirit air that lifts upward, ever challenging my faith, refining and purifying my soul. I want to love with the unconditional spirit love that comes only from the heart of God. I want to be one.

I'm an unsolved case
at times,
dear God.
I am immovable,
a product of my own making.
I sulk and pout
and never get where I want to go.
But I'm never left there.
I smell the sweet scent of love's calling
and I recognize my spirit's lacking
and I hear your voice
calling out,
calling me.
Warm tears fill my eyes
when I discern once again
my pride, my will.
Substitutes.
Cheap fakes.
Your light sends a ray for me
and I follow it,
leaving behind my trinkets,
my junk toys and excess baggage.
Free, light, and happy
I return home
to you.

Love always, Andrea