AM I DOING IT WRONG?

Barren trees displaying their glory in the light of the sun.

I’m not sure when this phrase came into my life. Did someone say this to me, “You’re doing it wrong.”? Or, did I just assimilate it through experience? As I am allowing my word or theme for 2021—listen deeply—to live in me, I sense God’s desire to go deeper with me in healing those old wounds that hinder me from receiving this gift of deep listening.  God seems to be bringing to the surface themes in my life that have existed for a very long time. Themes that have hindered me from intimacy with God and others. I can see now that if we come to sense and know God through our heart, then if our heart is wounded, we are hindered from knowing God and others to the fullest. Heart wounds and trauma from the past cause the demons of fear and anger to cling to us in the present. Their critical voices come to live with us.

Growing up I don’t ever remember my father saying, “You’re doing it wrong, Cherry.”   To the contrary, I feel that I was overly favored by my father, which has caused a different set of problems within myself and my relationships with my siblings. Nevertheless, I left home with the belief that there was a right and a wrong way of doing things. I dearly wanted to do it the right way. I felt love from my father when I performed well. Conversely, if I went against his views, I felt his displeasure and subsequent coldness and dismissiveness. So, I was highly motivated to gain his approval.

Unfortunately, these themes of striving to do it right and gaining the approval of another accompanied me into adulthood. I thrived on excelling in whatever I did, craving recognition and approval. Things went along this way for about the first decade of adulthood. I married and easily conceived, and received the precious gift of two healthy children who looked good and performed well. Sadly, my husband and I pursued cultivating our careers but not our marriage. I was far too focused on myself and my success to care for and love my husband well.  At 35, he asked for a divorce. Quiet during our ten-year marriage, he then began to voice all his unhappiness and criticism of me.  Coming from a place of deep hurt within him, his angry, harsh words shocked and stung me. I heard, “You’re doing it wrong, Cherry.” All my fears and insecurities came rushing out. I immediately scurried to “do it right.” To make up for what I had done. Unfortunately, my husband was not open to my offer to change. For him, it was too little too late, so we did divorce. Out of that deep pain and by God’s abundant mercy and grace, a new phase opened up for me. A surrender on my part that resulted in a spiritual awakening if you will. It felt like a fresh start, a new beginning, for which I’m very grateful, but I see how the lie, “You’re doing it wrong, Cherry,” came with me into this new life.

I love the phrases: God is not finished yet and It’s not the end of the story. God often reminds me of these truths as He gifts me with the grace of patience and hope. God is able to open our eyes to the light that drives out the darkness within us. The words of a recovery friend frequently come to mind: “Figure it out is NOT one of the 12 steps!” I would so love a nice neat list of steps to follow that results in a healed heart and deep intimacy with God and others. I hope that God is pleased with this heart’s desire of mine, but I believe His plan is different. I don’t need to figure it out because God already has. God offers to take upon himself the care of our affairs.  God is giving me the gift of time and drawing me to stay awhile in each moment, each event, each thought, and each conversation. There is power in silence, in prayer, and in waiting. The soul comes to rest in God as God works in the soul and heals the heart. I can trust this, trust God, and ask for His help when I falter and doubt. I can simply BE right where I am today and who I am today praying to trust in God’s goodness and wisdom.

Amidst all the voices that speak to me daily, including that critical voice that says “You’re doing it wrong,” I am beginning to hear a higher voice above all the others. A voice that calls me to come (empty and trusting), to rest in God’s loving embrace, and to receive. Gradually, anger and fear no longer cling to me. I can go forward on the journey to my best self, clinging to my God who walks with me, and who never fails me. From this place of God’s fullness, His love and beauty ooze out of me onto others. This is the work of a lifetime. But God has given me a lifetime.

“What the eye has not seen nor the ear heard, God has prepared
for those who love…” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

P.S.  While reflecting and writing this blogpost, a long-time favorite read of mine keeps coming to mind. Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard is a tenderly-written allegory of a young woman called Much Afraid and her journey with the Good Shepherd to the High Places.  In the end, her pain and suffering are transformed into grace and glory. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it.

Winter’s grace and glory.

LET LIFE HAPPEN

My husband and I are tucked away in the woods in a little cabin on a lake in Southern Missouri. As has happened many times over the years, now that we are settled in, I am struck by how much our souls and our marriage needed this unexpected getaway. We are coming back from moving our youngest daughter, Beka, to Austin, Texas to live with her sister, Rachael. A significant life event for our family.  At the same time, my almost 99-year-old mother, my children’s beloved grandmother, is in the final season of her life here on earth. Another significant life event.  So, when we happened upon this sweet spot, we decided to land here for a couple of days before we re-enter our life in Illinois. To spend undistracted time in God’s presence and goodness, allowing God to declutter and refocus us, and to reconnect as a couple.

A few weeks ago, I asked my priest for some of his time. When my heart is heavy with either a relationship or a life event, I know that I need extra help, an extra portion of God’s grace. I have come to gratefully rely on the graces that I receive in what I call the three C’sCounsel, Confession, and Communion. Father Greg graciously provided me with all three. After listening to my heart and hearing my confession, he prescribed this healing penance—to pray and meditate on the phrase Let Life Happen. What is God saying to me at this time in my life through this phrase?

Today in the early morning quiet, I came upon these words of Thomas Merton that describe this idea of letting it happen—whatever it is

“To hope for something better in the future is not the theological virtue of hope. Theological hope is based on God alone, who is both infinitely merciful and infinitely powerful right now. Here is a formula to deepen and further the theological virtue of hope with its unbounded confidence in God. Let whatever is happening happen and go on happening. Welcome whatever it is. Let go into the present moment by surrendering to its content…The divine energies are rushing past us at every nanosecond of time. Why not reach out and catch them by continuing acts of self-surrender and trust in God?”
Thomas Merton, Reflections on the Unknowable

As I ponder the richness and depth of Merton’s words, I am reminded of some practical advice I have received along my journey.  Like the popular twelve step recovery sloganLet Go and Let God.  I have been told that the world is in good hands—God’s hands. I can stop fighting reality, stop trying to do God’s part, and ask God for the grace to simply and bravely do my part.

Like a flower, life simply unfolds. If we rush it, we can ruin it.  When we think of a flower blooming or the wonder of a newborn baby entering the world, we instinctively know that we must treat these new lives tenderly.  We sense their preciousness and we tread lightly, aware that we are on holy ground. Letting it happen means that we treat life as the precious gift that it ismoment by moment.

My lived experience has led me to trust Me just as I am, going to God just as God is. I can cry out to God like a child cries out to a parent.  I can trust Grace. When I sense the Almighty’s wisdom, love, and power, I am less apt to meddle in the lives of others. I am convicted and humbled by these words of Theresa of Avila:

“Let us look at our own shortcomings and leave other people’s alone; for those who live carefully ordered lives are apt to be shocked at everything and we might well learn very important lessons from the persons who shock us. Our outward comportment and behavior may be better than theirs, but this, though good, is not the most important thing; there is no reason why we should expect everyone else to travel by our own road, and we should not attempt to point them to the spiritual path when perhaps we do not know what it is…It is better to attempt to…live in silence and in hope, and God will take care of God’s own.”
Theresa of Avila, Interior Castle

God’s grace helps me come to peace with what is and what I am. To accept life in all its glorious fullness—the new births, the sudden or anticipated deaths, the new adventures, the unknown and the uncomfortable. Even this year’s election. I can simply let it all happen.  I can look to God like a little child and trust Grace. In the safety of God’s loving embrace, I am able to look for evidence of the abundance of the present moment. I am able to savor. I can smile as my prayer to God. Out of this dependent stance, abiding in God’s love, I am guided to respond to others and to life’s events as they unfold in a way that is life-giving and helpful to all.

I am enjoying the trees this autumn so full of splendor with their brilliant changing colors. Soon these splendid leaves will turn dry and wrinkled, and the trees will let them go. We experience this dramatic example of letting go every year. We trust that this is part of nature’s process. We trust that the trees will bud again in the greenness of spring’s new life cycle.  We let it happen and we enjoy the process.

As I enjoy this little corner of nature, God’s gift to me for such a time as this, I pray for the grace to trust the path that God has for me and for the world:

God of wisdom and source of all that is sacred
 I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are on you. (2 Chron 20:12)

I’ll end with a haiku that I wrote a few years ago:

Let go. Trust Me. Be here.
Relax. Experience and savor the mystery.
Let it be as We.