So, here's my favorite poem. It's by Robert Frost
The Silken Tent
She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when a sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To everything on earth the compass round,
And only by one's going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightest bondage made aware.
I love this poem because I feel my own internal life is a balance between staying where I need to be, where I love to be... and wanting to run away, to escape. And this poem paints this special kind of bondage--the mom/wife/daughter/woman bondage--in such a beautiful way.
I must be a coward at some essential level of my soul because my first impulse in the face of any kind of stress or trouble is "RUN AWAY"! But when I most want to run away I look at what I would be running away from: everything that I love and all that brings me joy. And I know I couldn't be happier living any other life. This poem covers it all and I see myself: the silken tent with the heavenward sure core, standing free until the wind blows and then the guy ropes pull and I feel it. And sometimes it feels really windy and I feel all tied down. But like the poem says, my life is summertime and the tent is beautiful, and the central pole is solid and sure, and pointed towards Heaven.
Anyway, I love this poem. And there must be thousands, millions of women like me who wish to run away sometimes, but stay in their lives where there is beauty as well as there are burdens.
Carmen is sicker. She's grown a new tumor and this one has spread all down her spine. They go to the doctor tomorrow to discuss options. Carmen is in good spirits, her mom says. I am afraid to lose her.
And I do have my versions of running away. When I'm most worried I read almost non-stop. I can read 5 (or sometimes more) books in a day when I'm "running away". And I play the piano, especially when I am angry or frustrated. It's like, having the playing to concentrate on takes just enough brain power to slow everything in my head and heart down so I can cool down and consider things.
Life is good. I feel my ties tonight but I am happy to be "strictly held by none," but "loosely bound by countless silken ties of love and thought". I embrace the ties tonight and... I'm gonna read myself to sleep and read some more tomorrow. :)
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Gimme gimme gimme
So, my life has been um.... challenging... lately in several categories. And I have for many many months now been praying for several specific outcomes. And, contrary to my expectations, my requests have not been granted by God.
When I first began my desperate prayerful requests I asked for immediate assistance. I had deadlines in my mind: if You, God, do not send this by this date, then life as I know it will end. Those sorts of things. And God missed every deadline. I thought my life could not continue in the comfortable fashion I have become addicted to without those requirements met....and they were not met.
[The aside here is how my life is still just as comfortable and happy and how my shoulders have broadened to carry my burdens, how my mind has expanded to imagine solutions that seemed impossible, how events align so that the eventualities I fear, the disasters that I imagine could send me over the edge--these never happen and life goes on in safe and comforting patterns. And how what I was sure could not be endured actually CAN be endured and even learned from. But this is an aside--too important not to mention, but not directly pertinent to what I'm talking about here]
So when first my requests were unfulfilled I observed my behavior: I was angry at God. I didn't want to talk to Him any more. I pouted. My observing self noticed that I was indulging in the same behavior that my own children exhibit when their wishes are denied. No matter if the refusing parent has a logical and sound reason for those denials, the childish reaction is the same: petulant, sulking, resentful. I saw these feelings and behaviors in myself. Like God was my sugar daddy who had unexpectedly denied my latest whim. Like He exists to give me what I ask for. As if He were falling down on the job.
However, childish reactions aside, not receiving Divine assistance in the ways that I requested really bothered me. My desires were righteous. They were unselfish. And they feel quite desperate. I feel that I deserve to get what I'm so fervently asking for. So I began to wonder: what is prayer for?
When you take away getting what you ask for, then what's left? When people bear testimony of prayer, inevitably it's because they got what they asked for. I can't even count the number of times I've heard something that began like this: "I'd like to bear my testimony of prayer because God answered my prayer for....."
There are little shadows of other sides to prayer. There are stories in the scriptures of prayers for relief being answered with strength to continue suffering. We've all heard stories of prayers not being answered for years. One lady I admired greatly said that God has 3 basic answers to prayer: "yes", "no" and "not right now". And of course there has been lots said about building a relationship with God through prayer. I am not forgetting these things about prayer.
But somehow the biggest impression I have had in my mind is that when you have a need, a righteous desire, pray to God and He will give it to you. There are actually scriptures that say this kind of thing quite explicitly. But I have experienced more than once having a need that was desperate, a need that I took to God, a need that He chose not to fulfill. And I have realized that I have an incomplete understanding of what prayer is. Somehow I have imagined it as being mainly a tool to get what I want. And not getting what I want has brought me smack into my shallow perceptions. Can I really be this superficial in my approach to God? So I've been working to expand my understanding.
And I don't know that I understand any better, but my heart has changed its feelings about prayer. It started when I was talking to my brother Reed about this (I asked how he bears having his prayers for Carmen's healing not answered in the way that he wishes) and one of the things he said was something he'd read in the Bible dictionary: that prayer was work. I don't know why this rang bells in my mind, but it started me off on a whole new track of thought about prayer. The first and most obvious thought I had was that I had overlooked the idea that prayer is my duty as well as my privilege. That it is a commandment for me to be on my knees at least twice a day and to pray in my heart many many more times. Just those thoughts were enough to soften my heart and change my feelings about prayer.
So currently I have no hard definition of what prayer is about. I know for certain that it's not a means to an end. It's not what I do to get what I need or want (although prayer does serve this end sometimes). But it's far more than that and I'm finding out what it really is for me. I am starting with the idea that I will work to be on my knees as often as I can with no expectations of reward from God. I will pray with no agenda. I will continue to make my requests, of course, and continue to hope for fulfillment of all of them, but somehow it seems so obvious to me that it is His will that will be served and not mine and that is so obviously correct and safe that I cannot be dissatisfied.
Well, that's where I am for now on this. I've obviously got a lot more to figure out. Just like all of my thoughts and impressions--there are no permanent conclusions. Every new experience (mine and those of others) lead to a reevaluation of my previous ideas. It's all a journey and I am one of those who just has to talk it all out all along the way. You know.
When I first began my desperate prayerful requests I asked for immediate assistance. I had deadlines in my mind: if You, God, do not send this by this date, then life as I know it will end. Those sorts of things. And God missed every deadline. I thought my life could not continue in the comfortable fashion I have become addicted to without those requirements met....and they were not met.
[The aside here is how my life is still just as comfortable and happy and how my shoulders have broadened to carry my burdens, how my mind has expanded to imagine solutions that seemed impossible, how events align so that the eventualities I fear, the disasters that I imagine could send me over the edge--these never happen and life goes on in safe and comforting patterns. And how what I was sure could not be endured actually CAN be endured and even learned from. But this is an aside--too important not to mention, but not directly pertinent to what I'm talking about here]
So when first my requests were unfulfilled I observed my behavior: I was angry at God. I didn't want to talk to Him any more. I pouted. My observing self noticed that I was indulging in the same behavior that my own children exhibit when their wishes are denied. No matter if the refusing parent has a logical and sound reason for those denials, the childish reaction is the same: petulant, sulking, resentful. I saw these feelings and behaviors in myself. Like God was my sugar daddy who had unexpectedly denied my latest whim. Like He exists to give me what I ask for. As if He were falling down on the job.
However, childish reactions aside, not receiving Divine assistance in the ways that I requested really bothered me. My desires were righteous. They were unselfish. And they feel quite desperate. I feel that I deserve to get what I'm so fervently asking for. So I began to wonder: what is prayer for?
When you take away getting what you ask for, then what's left? When people bear testimony of prayer, inevitably it's because they got what they asked for. I can't even count the number of times I've heard something that began like this: "I'd like to bear my testimony of prayer because God answered my prayer for....."
There are little shadows of other sides to prayer. There are stories in the scriptures of prayers for relief being answered with strength to continue suffering. We've all heard stories of prayers not being answered for years. One lady I admired greatly said that God has 3 basic answers to prayer: "yes", "no" and "not right now". And of course there has been lots said about building a relationship with God through prayer. I am not forgetting these things about prayer.
But somehow the biggest impression I have had in my mind is that when you have a need, a righteous desire, pray to God and He will give it to you. There are actually scriptures that say this kind of thing quite explicitly. But I have experienced more than once having a need that was desperate, a need that I took to God, a need that He chose not to fulfill. And I have realized that I have an incomplete understanding of what prayer is. Somehow I have imagined it as being mainly a tool to get what I want. And not getting what I want has brought me smack into my shallow perceptions. Can I really be this superficial in my approach to God? So I've been working to expand my understanding.
And I don't know that I understand any better, but my heart has changed its feelings about prayer. It started when I was talking to my brother Reed about this (I asked how he bears having his prayers for Carmen's healing not answered in the way that he wishes) and one of the things he said was something he'd read in the Bible dictionary: that prayer was work. I don't know why this rang bells in my mind, but it started me off on a whole new track of thought about prayer. The first and most obvious thought I had was that I had overlooked the idea that prayer is my duty as well as my privilege. That it is a commandment for me to be on my knees at least twice a day and to pray in my heart many many more times. Just those thoughts were enough to soften my heart and change my feelings about prayer.
So currently I have no hard definition of what prayer is about. I know for certain that it's not a means to an end. It's not what I do to get what I need or want (although prayer does serve this end sometimes). But it's far more than that and I'm finding out what it really is for me. I am starting with the idea that I will work to be on my knees as often as I can with no expectations of reward from God. I will pray with no agenda. I will continue to make my requests, of course, and continue to hope for fulfillment of all of them, but somehow it seems so obvious to me that it is His will that will be served and not mine and that is so obviously correct and safe that I cannot be dissatisfied.
Well, that's where I am for now on this. I've obviously got a lot more to figure out. Just like all of my thoughts and impressions--there are no permanent conclusions. Every new experience (mine and those of others) lead to a reevaluation of my previous ideas. It's all a journey and I am one of those who just has to talk it all out all along the way. You know.
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