I didn't want to go to little church last night. The last week has been a real struggle, and I felt cocooned in sin and darkness. I felt like I had nothing to give and I wasn't prepared to receive anything from others. Fortunately, I went anyway.
After the meal we shared together, we gathered in the Buck's living room for a time of fellowship. There is no particular agenda for our gatherings: this time we opened with a reading from the Divine Hours, a few brief prayers, and a reading from the Psalms. Each of these had something to speak to me, but last night I was ministered to most by the silence the followed. Some nights at little church are quite lively, but last night we sat (or lay / kneeled / writhed in my case) in silence for over an hour. It was just what I needed.
Even before the quiet settled upon the room, my mind was filled with images of light and dark. The sun shining into the far reaches of space, illuminating one half of each planet while leaving the other covered in darkness. A candle sitting in a room or hallway, its light reaching out only so far. In each image, I stood at the border between light and darkness, afraid to step into the light.
These images competed for space in my mind with a desire to truly repent. A desire to walk away from all the crap in my life. I was tired of half repentance that only left my sin behind for a brief season. I wanted to be made new. I wanted to die and be born again. The question that bubbled up was, "How do I die?"
And then it hit me: I walk into the light. My intuition was correct: the light would destroy me. I could not step into God's presence without being unmade. I needed to bring all of me - all that is good, all that is bad, into the presence of the Father. The great hope that I held is that, because I know Jesus, my undoing would not be the end of me. Instead it would be the beginning of the new me.
So that's what I tried to do. I offered all of myself to God. The phrase seems like a Christian cliché, but I hope it is the truth. The undoing He brings is my only hope.
This morning at Wellspring, the following verses were part of the scripture reading for today. They seemed appropriate.
Isaiah 60:1-2
1 "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you. 2 See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the LORD rises upon you and his glory appears over you.
3 comments:
What a grace you have received.
Bravissimo! I know that feeling, myself, of knowing that full life lies on the other side of death. I, however, ran from it, and am running still.
I applaud your courage, sir, and those who encourage it.
Walk on, friend. And I will walk with you.
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