Sunday, March 09, 2008

Without Your Mercy

This is my 8th day in a row online. That's how well that is going. Tomorrow is another day. Another chance to walk away from the computer. Even if it's only 10 minutes online a day, it feels like a fix of some kind.

I sent off my pitch to Outfront this week. That felt good. I've been able to figure out a magazine I can pitch the same story to as well. Yesterday there was a poster at the library for a session with the writer in residence, a new venture for the library, and one that sure works for me. She'll be available for consults for 2 months and I plan on seeing her. I'm feeling ready to take another crack at writing a book. Fear of failure is really what's kept me from it thus far. Writing here has helped me gain some confidence.

I had an appointment with Fr. Charlie this week, the first one since November. Our sessions have moved from counseling to spiritual direction. It is a comfort to spend time with someone who has seen me in the gutter and kept on believing, when I couldn't, that I wouldn't always feel mired in shame. Experiencing the Sacrament of Reconciliation this week had a particular sweetness to it.

Here are bits from my journal:

"Perhaps facing my feelings and letting them stay surfaced will one day be a non issue. So far it's still a lot of work." ~March 4/08

"Last night when I came home it was a clear starry night. I looked up at the stars and said, "wow" several times. I never get tired of their beauty." ~March 6/08

"Without Your mercy we would have no hope." ~March 7/08

"During my time of centering prayer I got a picture of opening my heart to God. Then I remembered how the statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus at church has made me picture my chest open, my heart exosed and touching the heart of Jesus. Today I understood that opening my heart would make it possible for Jesus to envelop it." ~ March 7/08

"Yesterday's scripture reading was about Jesus at the feast of Tabernacles and how the people wanted to arrest him but couldn't lay a hand on him because his hour had not yet come. I thought about the possibility that if no one could harm Jesus because it wasn't God's will then maybe I could stop worrying that some tragedy is going to befall me and cut my life short. Trust. Do I trust God enough to rest instead of wrestle?" ~ March 8/08


The two disciplines that I'd hoped to start during Lent complement each other. The yoga has been relaxing. Working up a sweat doing yoga has come as a bit of a surprise. The discipline of centering prayer has been a good antidote for my waning affair with perfectionism. As Thomas Keating says, "the only thing you can do wrong in this prayer is to get up and walk out."

6 comments:

Jim said...

I once shook my fist at God and demanded of Him: "Your grace I know and your mercy I know; but where, oh where, is your deliverance?" I swear: a still small voice whispered back to me "But, Jim; My mercy and my grace ARE my deliverance." I asked a couple of preachers about the experience. They thought I was merely hearing my own voice, so I dropped it and, then, a few year later came across Proverbs 16:6. It "works for me".

Indeed, "without Your mercy, we would have no hope". One day at a time, we learn to rest in Him...

Poor Mad Peter said...

If outfront bites and you tape and it's a go, let us know when it's broadcast, ok? Please? :)

Anonymous said...

Yes, like peter said, Hope. I'd love to hear it!
Mich

Mary Poppins NOT said...

We are very similar, you and I. I recognize myself all over your posts. Do you realize the amount of learning I have gotten from your journey? You have beaten down the path for me, it seems, and therefore making my hike much less of a struggle. Thank you!

daisydreamer said...

Ah, I feel badly. I was not coming to check on you during the week because I didn't think you'd be here.

I think it's cool that you're going to be able to meet with an author to help with your writing.

Steve F. said...

Today I understood that opening my heart would make it possible for Jesus to envelop it.

I once heard a female Episcopal priest in Alanon describe her understanding of confession as "bringing my whole self to God." I'd have to admit that your image - opening myself up enough to allow Jesus to envelop my heart - would tie in beautifully with her image.

I'm not sure which I struggle more with when it comes to writing a book - fear of failure, or fear of saying something that everyone else has already said better (or more often). My prayer is to grind the grist of others that I have absorbed into my life together and so finely that they will taste a new sausage, and not the various meats and seasonings that came before. I'm just not sure if I can...

And I echo others' comments - let us know when you are to make your debut, please, and how to catch you!