…. I awake early in the morning to find myself mid-prayer.
… I know I should be really angry, and have a right to be, but I’m not.
….I free fall into the mysteries of the Universe and both know and am known by them.
And, then I wake up.
To ponder, could it really be this easy? All I’m doing is shaking my fists at God while brazenly raising my middle finger to the world, and, what is this? How can I have glimpses of peace!? It’s not that simple… Or is it?
I’m currently re-reading some of Martin Luther’s sermons and treatises. Oh, the irony of finding affirmation of my most recent experience here in his sermon on Matthew 13:24-30 originally titled: The Parable of the Tares Which An Enemy Sowed in the Field:
You know, it was really funny at first. But then, God’s message sobered me as it settled into my heart: the weeds are not going to be rooted out. I can pray until I’m blue in the face here, but God’s idea of justice appears to human beings as mercy in this life. To expose the weeds, or to uproot them, would damage the wheat. It is God’s will that the weeds be allowed to grow right alongside the wheat until the harvest. Bummer:-/
It doesn’t matter what denomination of Christianity I belong to, I will always have to beware of imposters “worshipping” right along those who truly cleave unto Christ in faith. The ones having their inner selves transformed into something lovelier, gentler, and stronger than they could ever create by themselves.
You know why I’m so hurt? I’ve been so naive…. I was completely unprepared to encounter that level of callousness,and intent to hurt others, in a place where spiritual leaders are being formed for ordained service to Christ. I thought we all knew, and were known, by Christ. If spoken words are an index to one’s heart, then it’s clear where their hearts lie. It’s not for me to judge, but I cannot see my Christ in the spirit of how they treat others… So, most likely, we ALL need to bow before the throne and have God search our hearts and heal whatever it is that is not of Him….
So, yesterday, I collapsed at the foot of the Cross. Because, I cannot forgive no matter how hard I try. It’s been five months, and I still can’t retell our story without tears slipping out of the corners of my eyes. I thought blogging would help, but it has only served to mirror back how wounded I still feel.
Ive given up on trying to heal and move on from this by my own power. In the last few months, I have drained myself completely in walling God away from my hurt and feelings of shame and inadequacy.
I am inadequate. It’s not just a passing feeling I happen to be experiencing at the moment, it is my reality. I didn’t want my Blessed Savior to see how stupid and silly I was in my naivety. How I let my human feelings blind me to seeing my contributions to my own hurt. No one other than Christ Himself could survive what we went through, and go on to find healing and peace on their own. Who do I think I am serving in trying to hide my vulnerability?! It’s not helpful to anyone, not even me.
In times of trouble, to protect myself from being more deeply wounded, I build a fortress to defend the terrified little girl inside me. She believes that if she has to experience even one more ounce of pain, her heart will beat no longer. She whispers in my ear, “Don’t let them hurt us again! We’ll be obliterated!” and without reflection, I draw my sword and run to her aid.
The little girl is safe. There is One capable of healing anything and everything we may encounter in this life. I know this to be true. I’ve lived this out in my life. But this is the first time I’ve had to live it out in the Church. There is something different about being attacked by those we assumed were of our own kind. It catches us completely off guard, and we’re not quite sure how to respond… But you can never go wrong by starting at the Cross.