blog time

I was unable to blog for three days now. Part of it is because I was too tired. Part of it was because I was not at home. Part was because I did not have Internet. Mostly it was because I was never able to be alone. Ever. I have these overpopulated times pop into my life from time to time, when my mom has had a rough day, when my in-laws are needy, or my husband feels neglected, or my children are having a difficult time. That is when I have to struggle with every ounce of my being to keep some time for me. This weekend was such a time. It is now late Sunday night, actually Monday morning now, and I am getting to write for the first time since late Thursday night. I am amazed at how much I missed it.

I have only been keeping this blog for a little more than a week. I was surprised when I realized I was craving writing, like chocolate or potato chips. I am really beginning to feel a difference, not just in how I cope with balancing care giving and work but something much more profound is happening. It actually makes a difference in how I face the next day. If I take the time to clear my overwrought head and release the confusion in my heart, if I force myself to put all those words into enough order that sentences form and coherent thoughts appear, my stirred up self quiesces.

Clergy are taught in Divinity School, if not other places, the necessity of keeping your own religious life healthy outside of your service. When I have been particularly down or disheartened it has been nice when a colleague has asked me "How is your prayer life?". I was reminded repeatedly during my training about the importance of keeping ourselves intact by maintaining some type of regular spiritual practice.

I used to go to church, participate actively in the congregation, and join in choir and women's groups. I loved the teaching of Sunday School and preparing and studying for classes, and later sermons. Now that my work is bedside, my prayer life is even more obvious and the frequency of spoken and corporate prayer becomes manifold. One would think that since I am living the religious life and praying all the time that my own spirit would be satiated. It isn't.

I have been needing and saying to my loved ones that I need to get away and get myself right with God again. So much has happened that I simply cannot keep up. There is so much grief. So much fear. So much anger that I need wrestle with, I have been trying to get away from everything for a week at least, so I can work it all out. That would be lovely, wouldn't it?

Life isn't made that way right now. So, here it is, the gift I missed. While I was looking for a retreat week away, some organized intensity of experience to purge my disease and fill me with spiritual ecstasy, I accidentally (really?) found a spiritual practice that almost fits into my daily life in its new form. Out of curiosity and insomnia, I Googled my name. I was astounded by the hits. I had over 143,000. Most of them were old newsletter articles or sermons published on the websites of former congregations I had served. Some were old announcements of classes I had taught or workshops I had presented. What surprised me though was how many times people were quoting me in their sermons, or on their blogs!

I am sorry, I am just not that quotable. The words I read were indeed mine, but old. I don't even remember the context of some of them, but my own thoughts on those subjects had evolved, while the words had apparently remained set in time. That night I decided if I was going to be in a blog, I should be in my own. I think it was a mixture of righteous indignation, hubris, loneliness and a dash of desperation that spurred me to post that first post.

Now, I find to my dismay, that I don't want anyone to know it is me that is writing. The words are public, yes, but the conversation is between my soul and the universe, a prayer life that is immediate, from my whole self to the whole of creation, knowing that as I type and post here, I cannot ever deny or take it back, even should time rob it of context, these thoughts are the core of something holy, something that has touched my life, and hopefully yours as well.

The blog breaks the loneliness. It gives voice to the strident hopes and boisterous wishes even as I diligently weave them into submission and control with my keyboard. This is the deep truth of my life. Everything I do ultimately becomes a prayer.

Bolstered by that insight, gained through grace and google, I can once again face a life that is indeed too full of giving, too brimming with grief, and way too busy. May grace continue to surprise me and may the love it breeds overwhelm us with joy!
Amen