Wednesday, March 7, 2007

My dearest God,

Writing an intimate letter to God, then allowing others to read it has its own set of risks. People can interpret what you write or say in many different ways. Some will react to their own conclusion.

In the last twenty four hours I have had three conversations about my last writings. One person came to visit me at the office. Another called long distance. And yet another called to say she was thinking about me. Troubling. Oh, not that I'm not grateful that people care because I know they do and I love each one for reaching out. However, I've learned something.

People are not comfortable when someone is vulnerable. People, especially loved ones, want to protect you from harm, injury. They want to make your life better. They wish to help in some way. They feel uneasy knowing someone they care about is troubled. They want the troubled person to change back quickly. And they are willing to do whatever is needed to assist in the change, the transformation.

Being in the desert is a necessary part of life. It is the "growth" place. It is the environment where the human soul can take refuge while exploring one's own insides. Revelation can come, as one determines to let God shine light on a dark or ominous place. Being vulnerable, honest about where one is, is a first step toward God. It is a recognition that something has changed. My soul has run amuck. I've stubbed my toe. I've fallen down. To admit the fallenness is to acknowledge one's own sin or brokenness. God can enter the soul on a level where both parties can talk.

The desert has few distractions. Not much to see or do. Life is lived in the raw. It's just God, me and the truth. We look at each other. Nothing is hidden. And since there is nowhere to turn and no one to run to, one can only fall into God's arms, which is precisely where one needs to be.

I need the desert experience. It teaches me about life and its pitfalls. It reminds me of my foibles and my need to turn toward God. I recognize that I am a simple human being in a vast universe created by God. I need to be reformed, reshaped, remade on a regular basis if I want to live the authentic spiritual life.

St. Francis of Assisi often found himself in the desert just like St. Bernadette and St. Therese. They wrestled with their sin, even the smallest infraction. Their longing to please God was so deep and intense that they remained in the spiritual desert for long periods of time until they regained their sense of place with God. Cleansed, refreshed, they became powerful witnesses to a whole world. Much has been written about all three. Oh, how I love their spirit.

I want the deepest relationship that is possible with God. I want nothing to stand between us. In fact on Sunday mornings before I preach, I ask God to remove anything between us so I will not be a barrier between God and God's own message. I want to be a messenger for God but I do not want to spoil the message by my own sin, pride, or arrogance. I want to know God at the deepest level, traveling as far down as possible, even if it means walking into the deepest darkness. And why? Because I know first hand that the deepest darkness has the only occasion for making the light the brightest. One tiny spark of light is magnificent in the deep dark. One is awestruck, stopped dead, breath nearly taken away by the awesomeness of God's light in our deepest trouble. And joy, joy overflows like the most beautiful waterfall. I find God here.

The desert leads me to God. Who would want to stop me? Who would tell me not to go? Who would prevent me from this amazing journey? Yes, it is scary in here, in the desert. Sometimes I fear there are ferocious enemies waiting to devour me. I suppose it is possible. But I'm willing to stand naked, all my sins, weaknesses, and failures revealed in order to meet God. And so, the desert must be available to the true seeker.

Desert fathers and mothers have written much about the desert. They found true harmony and peace in the desert of the soul. They fought their own demons here in this desolate place, but walked away a deeper believer, a more devout soul.

A true seeker must go to the desert to find their own soul. They must enter with nothing but a longing in the heart. They must be willing to tarry for however long so they are ready to engage God in a spiritual reality that is not possible apart from the desert. Good does not go to gooder and gooder to the goodest. Life is made up of ups and downs, side shifts, and falls. A fall can take us higher than ever before.

I'm grateful to be in the desert right now. I don't know what I will find or what will find me. I just know this is where God wants me right now. And Lent is the best time of all to be here. To my friends who love me, thank you for your loving care. I'm okay. I'm where I need to be, in the arms of God.

Dry soil.
Little water.
Hot sun.
Desert.
An oasis with God.

Love always, Andrea