2nd week of Advent and I am feeling as distant and lost as I think I ever have. The darkness is there, surrounding me. I feel so far away from you, Beloved. And I am a little pissed off. You asked me to leave my church, which I did. I left my spiritual home, the people I love, the Minister I love. I walked out into the desert, trusting you to walk along with me. Trusting you to show me the Way. The Truth. The Life. So where are you? I am not finding you in the churches I visit. I am not feeling you in my heart. I am not feeling you in my home. I am not feeling you in the psalms I am ignoring or the centering prayer I am not doing.
Where, O God? How long?
Is it enough that my children are learning about Jesse's stump? Is it enough that I hear the words of Isaiah spoken in church? Is it enough that I have a place to go and read Paul of Tarsus? Or that I take your body and blood into my mouth every week. Every week.
(Rachel, Rachel, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved?)
Where, O God. How long?
I talked to a friend from Bell Street tonight and she suggested I stick with Grace until Easter. Perhaps.
But God, could you throw me a bone? Offer me a tiny hint of what I am supposed to be doing here? Lift the veil just a little bit?
Jesus, it is dark.
I miss you so terribly.
I miss you so terribly, Beloved.