God’s not distant.
He’s all too close. I do not doubt his love. I do not doubt he’s desire to see
me reconciled to him. But I’m distant. I’m arresting his will. Why do I have
such power? Why do I feel so strong? My sin feels so mighty that it’s
overpowering my Creator. My God whom I love but can’t seem to love enough.
My strength is
illusion, yet it’s jarring. The weight of free will. The clear realization of
my brokenness, of how far I am from where I claim I want to be. In the moment
there isn’t guilt or contrition, not yet, because it isn’t about me. It’s about
the cosmic injustice of someone like me having so much ability to thwart God’s
will.
I’m unwilling to
call it despair. Despair is for the people who doubt God’s love, who are going
through a dark night of the soul, who experience distance or rejection or
judgment. If anything, I’m the opposite, overwhelmed by it all. Yet the root is
the same; somewhere I have taken on burdens I don’t need to take. I have
rejected hope by refusing to place my trust beyond myself.
After missing Mass
for, well, every day since Sunday, despite actual efforts to go several times,
I finally caught some chapel time alone. I like chapels when they’re dark and
quiet anyway. I couldn’t kneel for more than a few moments due to scrapes on my
knees. So I just sat there with Jesus, watching the little red flame flicker,
holding on to that flicker like a lifeline.
And I knew God was
patiently there with me, just being. “You don’t have to reach out. I’m already
here.” He knows reaching out is too difficult a burden for me right now.
I don’t have to seek
his attention or explain myself or pretend it’s all ok or check down a list of
symptoms to prove it’s not. I don’t have to make it to daily Mass. He’ll take
my chaplet when I’m waiting outside the closed recycling center. He’ll take my
gratitude when I’m picking myself off the ground, blood running down my hands
and knees. He’ll take my tears and confusion when I go home to cry during lunch
and don’t know why.
He’ll met me where I
am even when I find myself in places I don’t recognize.
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