Saturday, June 30, 2007

Dearest God,

What I have learned about Maine is that you live with a thin layer of dusty grit in your house. I have dusted and cleaned, actually wiped out a window sill only to have the same stuff reappear in 24 hours. It's the craziest thing.

Today I "mostly" cleaned my house which means I worked hard to get my house in order, but recognized I couldn't get rid of the greeny taupey sandy dust. I am just learning to deal with it. It's just part of my household.

My spiritual house is the same. I work hard to clean it up, making my own vessel a clean, pure one. But there's still a filmy substance that I can't completely rid myself of. It's there all the time. I think it's called sin, a stubborn bending to my own will. As much as I attempt to be clean, some smudges and smears remains in place.

I know clearly when I disappoint you and myself. I feel it inside. My words, my actions and attitudes are off, blowing blue smoke. As it rises in the air, I see it in front of my own eyes. I know what it means. I have failed, fallen. At the same time, once I witness this brokenness, I am able to face it, take ownership of it, recommit myself to the newness of living that only you offer.

"Search me and know me. See if there be any wickedness in me..." The psalmist own words speak meaningfully to me. These prayer words, an earnest seeking of God, call me out, drop me to my knees and I pray them too. "Search me, God, look for all my broken, run-down parts, the rusty, oily ones. Clean me up, restore me to my original condition, given at my birth. Clean away the accumulation of sin that hinders my life in you.

How can I ever stand in heaven
in the shape I am in?
My unclean spirit
rises up, rebels
fights for its own way.
I put on blinders,
to keep me away
from the truth
of my real value.
Forgive me,
place me at your feet,
to face my errant ways.
I want nothing more
than to stand with you
in eternity every day.
I long for your ways,
your love and friendship.
Teach me, Lord,
teach me again,
I pray.

Love, Andrea