This is What it Feels Like to be Led

There's a song I stumbled across a month or two ago called "What it Feels Like" by FFH. Here are the lyrics:

So this is what if feels like to walk the wilderness
and this is what if feels like to come undone
So this is what if feels like to loose my confidence
unsure of anything or anyone
So this is what if feels like to walk the desert sand
and this is what if feels like to hear my name
and to be scared to death cause I'm all alone
but feel love and peace just the same
And this may not be the road I would choose for me
but it still feels right somehow
And I have never felt you as close to me as I do right now
So this is what if feels like to be led
So this is what if feels like to have it fall apart
to be totally unglued
and find out if I accept my brokenness
I get more of me, I get all of you
If this is what if feels like to be on shaky ground
Careful of every step I take
Realizing as I stop to look around
I look around and see everything a different way
and this may not be the road I would choose for me
but it still feels right somehow
cause I have never felt you as close to me as I do right now
So this is what if feels like to be led
and this is what if feels like to be led
So this is what if feels like to just walk away
from everything I thought kept me safe
to depend just on you for every meal
and find it's better this way
oh it's better this way
And this may not be the road I would choose for me
but it still feels right somehow
And I have never felt you as close to me as I do right now
like i do right now

I love this song because it speaks to the paradox I've been living these past months, well really, these past years, on the one hand feeling completely out of control and on the other, feeling so secure in the Lord. Being led is tough, it sound easy at first, but think about it for a minute. When you're being led somewhere, you aren't in control. You don't necessarily even know where it is you're going or how you're going to get there if you happen to be lucky enough to know the end goal of the road. For me, these past months have been like walking around in a pitch black room. But at the same time, I've felt such security in knowing that I am letting the Lord lead me, in His calling. Its a tricky thing, being led. But there's no where else I'd rather be than here, even if I don't know where here is.

Where I'm at

Life has been a struggle these days. I've never been good at balancing things, and I'm terrible at discipline (if you want to know my new year's resolutions, those are them). So I've been feeling the truth of the passage from Night Prayer, "your opponent the devil is prowling like a lion for someone to devour. Resist him, solid in your faith," and haven't been doing a great job of resisting.

For some reason, Thomas Merton's book The Seven Storey Mountain called out to me this afternoon from the bookshelf. It was one I had read years ago in college, and as I was praying for a friend at the time, I thought there was some kernel of truth in it meant for her. But what I found was (surprise) for me. I opened up to the part of the book where Merton has just decided that if he can't join an order he's going to live life in the world as closely to that as a monk as he can. When I read what he was going through at that moment, the words rang true. Our lives are very different in the day-to-day sense, but the sentiment he expresses is very much what I've been feeling lately- the uncertainty, the solitude, all of it, the fear that underlies the words, all of it. And as his story does in fact end well, it gives me hope that perhaps I'll actually make it. So here's what he says:

It was a difficult and uncertain business, and I was starting again to make a long and arduious climb, alone, and from what seemed to be a great depth.
If I had ever thought I had become immune from passion, and that I did not have to fight for freedom, there was no chance of that illusion any more. It seemed that every step I took carried me painfully forward under a burden of desires that almost crushed me with the monotomy of their threat, the intimate, searching familiarity of their ever-present disgust.
I did not have any lofty theories about the vocation of a lay-contemplative. In fact, I no longer dignified what I was trying to do by the name of a vocation. All I knew was that I wanted grace, and that I needed prayer, and that I was helpless without God, and that I wnated to everything that people did to keep close to Him.
It was no longer possible to consider myself, abstractly, as being in a certain "state of life" which had special technical relations to other "states of life." All that occupied me now was the immediate practical problem of getting up my hill with this terrific burden I had on my shoulders, step by step, begging God to drag me along and get me away from my enemies and from those who were trying to destroy me.

Psalm 62

It's amazing to me how scripture can speak right to the heart. Time and again the Lord shows me His Word, opens to me His heart and His will through scripture; and time and again I am amazed at how a few verses can set my mind and heart at ease in an instant.

This afternoon my prayers were all over the place, both head and heart were racing with doubts, fears, and questions. What am I doing here? Am I loving enough? Am I doing too much?Not enough? And the more I tried to calm the unrest I was feeling, the more the thoughts would plague me. What if these thoughts aren't going away because I'm supposed to be feeling uneasy because I'm really doing something wrong?

It's my habit to pray evening prayer as I sit in the car waiting for the kids to get out of school. I have plenty of time then and there are no distractions. Now I know technically 2:30 isn't quite evening, but it's the last quiet time I get before 10pm so I think the Lord will forgive me for fudging with the times.

So anyways, sure enough, the first lines of the first psalm were just what I needed to heart to remind me that the Lord alone brings peace to my soul:

In God alone is my soul at rest;
my help comes from Him.
He alone is my rock, my stronghold,

my fortress: I stand firm

I said that first stanza of the psalm hesitantly, knowing in my head that the words had power but still caught in the churning emotions. But God, in His infinite wisdom and goodness, saw fit to repeat those words. I was once told by a very wise priest that in the midst of trial and temptation you should speak Scripture out loud because the Truth of the Word of God will combat the lies Satan is telling you. And by the time I reached the end of Psalm 62, the million questions that had been running through my head had ceased, and I could rejoice in the Lord's presence, which was what the next psalm and the canticle were about. I love the way God works!

I'd like to close this post with one of the psalm prayers that put into words the prayer of my heart.

Lord God, you reward each one according to his works. Hear us as we pour out our hearts to you, seeking your grace and secure protection. We look to you for our stable hope in a constantly changing world.

Amen.

Life in the Suburbs

So its been a few months, and here's what I've learned so far about life in the burbs: they are a dangerous place to live. I don't mean dangerous as in you might experience a home invasion by a strung-out meth addict (the kids' have an uncle who regularly reminds me that this is a distinct possibility and is very disappointed when I don't produce an emergency plan for that situation), but eternally dangerous.

There is nothing objectively bad about the suburbs with its comforts and conveniences- don't get me wrong, I love my big bathroom and spacious shower (its a big change from the double-wide), but its a slippery slope. In the midst of so many blessings it can be harder to remember who it is who gave them. I've never worried about money or finances until now, which is ridiculous because I have more than I need. But being surounded by people with portfolios (and not the art kind thank you very much) and IRAs, I find myself feeling the need to save more "just in case." Savings won't bring me security, just a false sense of it that can be very dangerous. Comforts and conveniences can make us forget to turn to God in our need; they can make us lazy and complacent if we aren't vigilant.

At the end of the day though, it like the psalmist says, "He has put into my heart a greater joy than they have from abundance of corn and new wine." I think I'll be okay here in the burbs, as long as I keep my eyes on the Giver and not the gifts.