Sunday, October 18, 2015

Abba Father! - An honest confession in the midst of the storm

It’s hard to determine how to engage this recent season of the soul.  Maybe it's best if I begin by going backwards from the last post...back to where it all started to unravel.  So bear with me as I share a few journal entries written over the summer. Hopefully it will unfold as we go along. Brackets ([... ]) will be used for clarification when needed, otherwise, these are just plain old journal entries - My hope is others will find voice in their own story through it.


July 17, 2015

The view from my "thinking spot" at Lee Abbey
“ 'Over the past two years I have participated in a study of  the life of Jesus where we seek to live in on-going awareness of him as his apprentice (I say “apprentice” because ‘disciple” seems a bit rhetoric in our current Christian culture) and participate in God's good and beautiful kingdom.  We find it by arranging our daily activity in such a way to allow for continual prayerful companionship with him on behalf of ourselves and others.  We find true freedom as we encounter him in our honest human condition and learn to "take up our mat" and walk with him, through prayer, community and scripture.  And as we do, we flounder and flourish in a grace-rhythmed dance with God.  We learn how to live lovingly with others and discover our unique role in the world for the sake of God’s greater Kingdom. Living as an apprentice of Jesus seems a formidable but lovely task.' 

[I typed those words in June, having just returned from staying at the beautiful Lee Abbey in Devon, England. They were the introduction of a larger paper that discussed in further detail the beauty of discipleship to Christ.  I was coming off a very hectic, spiritually dry season and was thankful for the respite, so the words flowed rather easily.  It seemed God was calling me into new places and I was excited!   It's funny when the soul makes space for God how the Father - Abba - finds a way to dine with the ragamuffin and make her cup full.   I was full.  Satisfied.  Ready to move into the deeper, richer things of God.]

Living with Jesus sounds so nice,  'Living in in-going awareness of him.', in 'continual prayerful companionship' Oh the words greet me like a warm blanket! I suppose it’s easy to pontificate the goodness of God when our circumstances support it.  

Photo Credit: Dru Norris
But today, here in this care-house for families with cancer? Those words seem a distant aspiration.  This has been an unusual summer and, among other things, my normally healthy dad has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukemia.  Clouds have come to cover the sunny coast-line of England that was so recently in view. Rain falls, and I don't know if I can trust these waters.  As I sit in this hospital waiting room, a different set of words are pouring forth:  

"I want to wake up from the dream.  Run away.  Escape. This is not the road I want.  Its not the way anyone planned it. Go away!
Please, Life!  Go back to normal!...It's strange how the day before everything changes feels just like any other day,with the same routines, same annoyances, same joys, same, same same.  But Same is different now.
How did we get here?  How did the bottom fall out so ruthlessly?  Where did Normal go?
Normal just introduced itself as doctors and nurses; as sterile rooms and beds with machines.  Normal takes blood counts and measures fevers and fatigue.
Normal is long text updates and tears held back by swallows.  It's says just enough,  never more."  

God I know you're here ...but where?  Where is your voice in the storm?  Where are the 'unforced rhythms of grace' that Matthew 11:28-30 talk about?  Where is the joy promised in the midst of sorrow? Or the peace that passes understanding?  Life with you is my investment, my bedrock, my hope! Now when it seems most vital I’m at a loss to engage it.  Rather than a 'grace-rhythmed dance with you', I’m, angry, sad, disappointed, resistant to the circumstances, and full of tantrums!  It’s been ugly…my soul-feet weren't expecting this journey and I am left breathless.


This doesn't feel like a 'Saturday', where we are simply held inside of life's pause awaiting Sunday's dawn.  This feels like Friday, where situations turn cruel.  Friday says, 'Father, if it's your will let this cup pass.'  Friday includes a garden in the night where the soul wrestles with God and sweat-blood falls into the dirt while vigilant prayers fall asleep at the tree.  Friday is a hike up a dusty hill with burdens laden and strength dwindling.  Friday bleeds at sunset.  

Oh find me in this honest human condition, find us all!  Because sometimes we weep. Sometimes we cry out  'Abba Father!  Why have you forsaken me,' ... and that's OK with you." 




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