Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Dear God,

I am learning the value of resting. For many years my body was high energy, ready to go, on the move, and pushing forward. I have always been able to do many things every day. Yes, I confess I was ready to drop at day's end. But then I met you on renewal. You taught me a better way.

You have shown me that my body is not a machine, geared for work every day. It is a delicate, fragile creation with untold possibilities. I can use it however I choose. So for decades I chose to work it hard, long, way beyond its limits at times. And for the most part, it held up.

During my clergy renewal, you showed me how my body can fill up with grace. How it can be used as a spiritual vessel capable of holding wondrous amounts of peace and harmony. How it is able to move slowly and intentionally, picking up on spiritual nuances lost to those who are too busy. (How many did I miss along my life's crazy, busy way?)

You lifted my eyes to experience the magnificent "awe" of human living, acknowledging that I am first and foremost a spiritual body living a human life. This sudden turn of perspective has left me wandering the earth in search of spiritual wonderment, giving me more opportunities to live a life of gratitude.

I am better about not absorbing the universe of its beauty for my own sake and learning how to take in the beauty I am shown and then radiating it outward to others. I can no longer live just for myself, taking care of my own needs and forgetting those around me. For we are in it all together. What is mine belongs to someone else too. What is someone else's belongs to another someone else as well.

We hold our experiences in common. My common bowl holds so much beauty and what makes it even more beautiful is to hold it out for others. When I recognize that my body is my common bowl needing special care and rest in order to hold beauty out to others, then chances are I will spend my days acknowledging your presence in so many diverse ways. My own vessel will take on a renewed hue, something of beauty itself and others will find it meaningful and valuable to draw close as I hold out my bowl to someone else. If I am frenzied, busy and preoccupied, no one will want to come near.

And so I am trying to rest more often, drinking in your own self. What I am finding is that I am only able to go as far as I have rested. If I am tempted to do too much and fail to care for myself, I will drop, I will lose what precious energy I do have. I will be stopped dead in my tracks. I am not able to draw from a reserve any more. I have none.

Resting affords me the opportunity for reflection, to trust you more, to enter into a time of silence, remembering your goodness. As I rest, I am renewed. I can give back, share with others, do the ministry you have called me to do. I am learning now at age 61 that rest is invaluable. I'm taking it in so that I can offer it out.

Who am I,

but a child

of your own making?

I wander off,

making my own way,

failing to remember

that I am yours.

This fragile creation

that I wear

is your gift

to me.

It's flawed,

imperfect,

not well balanced,

crazy at times,

overweight,

but I am perfectly made.

Your own hands

have made me.

Forgive me

for not always caring

for this pot

of clay.

Help me listen

for instructions

on how to caref

or this beautiful

clay vessel,

a rare piece

of your creation.

Love, Andrea