So, last night, after the pity party rant on my blog, I went upstairs and pulled out my old psalter to read the evening prayers. Uh. How about a little psalm 22 to drag you out of your self indulgent mire, kid?
I mean really, it's not like the bulls of Bashan are circling me. It's not like I have been stripped of my clothes and hung up to dry. My bones are all intact.
Advent is about waiting in the darkness, isn't it? And darkness, for me, means a sense of separation from you, God. So in a way, maybe it makes sense that I am feeling so far from you at the moment.
And maybe that is what this season of longing is suposed to be. A time of emptyness before the fulfillment. If that is the case, Beloved, it certainly seems to be working on me. I feel pretty damned empty at the moment.
And finally, after 2 years of centering prayer, is it possible that I am coming up against the dark night? Could it be that I am hitting the spiritual wall? I don't have an appointment with Fr. P until after the new year, but I think it might be time to give him a call about all of this.
Beloved, help me to trust that even when I am far from you, you are never far from me.