Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Dearest God,

Yesterday there was an unexpected energy in the air. I had several meetings, meeting meetings, counselling, and conversations. In fact I held my staff meeting somewhere around 1:15 p.m. and literally stayed in my office with people coming in and out until 8:20 p.m. I could not believe it. I was never alone during that time. It must be some kind of record, well, for me anyway.

Maybe it was the sun. First time that gorgeous, hot yellow ball has appeared in the sky in a long time. Maybe it was time, a precipitous moment when this ominous feeling I've been carrying dissipated. Perhaps it's because I was simply feeling better. Per chance it is all the above. Or it's a movement of the Spirit, a getting ready for God to do something spectacular.

Spiritual energy exists. It is not just some happy feeling event. It is not a manipulative force. It is not a lot of things. What it is is not well defined. Like a bud that suddenly breaks through asphalt and reaches for the sun. Or a spontaneous turn around in a person's life. Or an overwhelming insight that fills the soul. An illumination that spreads its rays in every direction.
A chemical reaction, a chain of events, one tugging at the next until each has unfolded. God revealing the last card.

And why not? Why should we think that living our life at a practical, emotional human level is all there is? Strictly a human event, individuals playing their own cards at particular times. Maneuvering the cosmos?

The idea of God is an intriguing one for many people. At the same time to imagine that God is daily at work in human living is much more difficult. That an invisible force greater than my own capacities is somehow impacting, influencing my life.

On Sunday a member of my church casually told me his family planned to visit Maine on vacation. I told him I had lots of information about Maine and I'd be happy to share it with him. Later he e-mailed me that he was hungry for lobster rolls. My liturgist on Sunday confided that she knew where the best lobster rolls could be found.

On Monday I called him about a matter and he told me he had found a site where homes in the Kennebunk area were for rent. He gave me the websites and I looked them up. I commented on them and then told him I had a friend who rents her home in the summer. I gave him her name and said I would call him later with the phone number.

About fifteen minutes later he called me back. "Andrea, you don't need to call me with Mary's number. The first house you saw was hers." "Bill, you are being sucked into a spiritual web. You're being sucked into a spiritual web!" I exclaimed. "Andrea, I'm a statistician, not a theologian." He reminded me.

"Wait til you hear this!" I proceeded to tell him how I met Mary three years earlier. Daily during my vacation in Maine, I drive to the beach about 6:00 a.m. I don my white dance apparel, then barefoot I walk to the ocean edge. I stand for a few moments, bow to God, then begin to dance, first to the rhythm of the waves, then to a tune or sound that comes to me. I whirl and twirl, stepping in and out of the water. I am free, liberated. I dance with no inhibition whatsoever. I'm not worried about people around. I simply dance to God's humming. I delight in these fresh, new day hours that God and I spend together. I am nearly oblivious to anything else around me. I just dance my offering to God.

One morning Mary was at home, a 15 minute drive to the beach where I dance. She had just finished her meditation with an icon she had made during a recent workshop, an icon of Mary, the mother of God and infant Jesus. As she finished her prayer, she heard a voice saying, "Come to the beach, come to the beach." She was mystified. It was early. The voice came from Mary, urging her to travel to Gooch's Beach. She turned to her husband and told him she was driving to the beach. He asked her why and she told him she didn't know why. But clearly she had heard a voice and she felt a sudden need to go to the ocean. When she rounded the bend on Ocean Drive, she said she saw an angel dancing, a white angel dancing at the water's edge. She continued driving, nearly driving off the road. She parked the car. Then slowly moved toward the angel. She stared in disbelief of what she was seeing. Of course, the dancer was me. I felt someone in my sacred space, but I was not troubled. I contined dancing. As I concluded, I prayed and bowed once again, then turned. I nearly ran over Mary. She was inches away. She apologized for being so close, then explained her story. We hugged and planned to dance together the next day.

Mary dances at the ocean herself. She has a friend suffering from several illnesses. But she takes her to the ocean and they dance together, sometimes sculpting their bodies as if one. We became friends. We rarely talk, but recognize God's hand in our coming together.

At the end of my story, Bill said, "Now what are the statistics of your parishner finding the home of your friend you met on the beach?" "I'm telling you Bill, God has something in mind. Mary is a deeply spiritual woman. Her home will have a spiritual ambiance. She is an art therapist who counsels abused children.

You are being sucked into a spiritual web!" He laughed and said, "We'll see!" What I know is he immediately called his wife and she told him it was a sign, that they were definitely going to stay there.

God circles us around, not getting in our way, but giving us opportunities, pathways, doors, keys to new arenas of faith. A spiritual energy, a vibrancy of faith erupts in new ways. The potential is infinite. Who knows what can happen?

God of Great Mystery,
you weave people's lives together
in a tapestry of mystery and intrigue.
The spirit comes to life,
nearly lifting from the fabric.
You leave us questioning,
wondering, reflecting, contemplating.
You constantly call us
to higher levels of faith,
of trusting,
of picking up our tools
to uncover the deeper secrets
of the universe, the cosmos,
the Greater What's Out There.
You disguise yourself
as the ordinary
to aid us in our journey
toward discovery
of the extraordinary.
We cannot begin
to fathom your greatness,
your compassion and love
for your children.
We remain mystified
at the mystical,
glory revealed.

Love always, Andrea