Sunday, March 4, 2007

Dear God,

Today for some reason I feel like an outsider, a person standing outside the spiritual entry door. Can't describe it. I couldn't find the knob before the worship service this morning. Still haven't. I couldn't connect with my own sermon. Don't think my people did either. Not sure why on either account.

I have felt so close to God for so long, months now. I could step inside the hallowed halls of God's home at any time. Wanted to. Longed to. I have enjoyed God's company more than life itself.

But today something happened. Don't know what. I've been on the inside for quite a while, nearly forgot what it felt like to be outside. But outside is where I am right now.

I remember St. Paul saying that he had found the secret to life, to be content in whatever situation he had found himself, believing that God was still present. A valuable lesson. I don't have to be inside a spiritual home in order to know that God's presence is with me. I too need to learn this lesson, to be content to be on the outside.

Spiritual arrogance can befall the greatest mystic. The more reliant one becomes on the visible presence of God, the less trust one has for the mystery of God. The more we love the mystery, the less we love God, the less we live, dependent on God's care.

If my joy has come from being on the inside, rather than in the presence of the Creator, then I have fallen prey to spiritual pride. If I have longed to stand just inside the door of God's home, rather than being in His presence, then I have tumbled, fallen. I have lost my way. To feel God's loving grace is not a prerequisite to living the spirit-filled life. Emotions and feelings are not the only signs of a relationship with God.

I must confess that I have been judgmental the last couple of days. In judging the spiritual life of two close friends, I have fallen away from my own. I have become what I have judged others to be.

It is easy to narrow one's own scope of spirituality. What may be simple for one may be difficult for another. We have not been made by a single cookie cutter. We are unique. Our synapsis is not identical. We come to God in novel ways. Sometimes the farther we travel away, the greater the homecoming. Who am I to say how another should find God? When my spirituality becomes the preferred model, then I have superceded God's model and made my own a fraud, a cheap replication. I didn't know that was where I was headed.

I have not only disappointed myself; I have disappointed God.

Human frailty.
Decaying flesh.
Sometimes
I forget who I am.
I am not God.
I am Andrea,
a sinner saved by grace.
I have so much to learn at your feet,
dear Savior.
My heart aches
as I consider
my own brokenness.
I suspect
I am like the prodigal son
who chose to leave home
for the good life.
Right now
I am with the pigs.
I have discovered the truth.
I am sorry.

Love, Andrea