STRESS BUSTER #10: MEDITATION
WHEN I RECEIVED THE MORE-THAN-DISAPPOINTING PHONE CALL from the doctor conducting the cancer trial I had been counting on participating in, I was reminded that misfortune is always a call for me to exercise my listening skills. Citing an inadequate white cell count and insufficient lymphocytes, the doctor told me, “this trial won’t help you,” and my heart settled at the bottom of my reservoir of hope.
OKAY, LORD, YOU’VE GOTTEN my attention. Now what?
IT’S EASY AT TIMES LIKE THIS to push prayer into the beseeching camp—far away from the listening-and-observing mode. After all, begging feels so natural.
BUT, UNNATURAL OR NOT, listening-and-observing, which is how I think of meditation, is vital in my relationship with God. He is not to be confused with Santa. The lens of gratitude must be focused on a still, serene place to recognize His guidance.
BUT, HOW DO I FIND THAT PLACE? I’m not one to repeat a rosary long enough to empty my mind, and folding myself with a hum into a lotus position only makes me feel ridiculous. Everyone has to find the way that works for him or her. Mine is with a fountain pen.
MY PRAYER JOURNAL hears my Job-like complaints and eventually helps me overcome my distrust and doubts. Days of writing may pass before I find in the splotchy pages the answer God has been trying to get me to hear. He speaks so softly, and my life—especially when I’m afraid—is SO noisy.
AND HOW DO I KNOW I’m hearing God and not just my own wishes magnified by a narcissistic angle?
I BEGIN BY ASKING that I be able to set aside what I’m SURE of and what I WANT so that I might hear what I don’t know and what I’m meant to do. Thus far, the answers I’ve received bear no semblance to what I’ve hoped for; haven’t seemed possible; and have taken me so far along the unfrequented path that many of my friends and family have had to learn to tolerate my nuttiness. (Oh, yes, I once was a conventional woman! I often long for the days when I didn’t raise eyebrows.)
BUT, I HAVE NO DOUBT this is path I’m supposed to be on.
AND NOW, AS I PROCESS this bit of bad news from the doctor whose research I fully support, even if I can’t participate, I know that if I will listen carefully and meditate with my heart and not with my own understanding, a new route will be revealed.
IN THE MEANWHILE, with God’s help, I will keep fear—that old enemy of healing—at a safe distance and remind myself that I am—just like all of us—well loved.
GOD WANTS ONLY THE BEST FOR ME. My job is to pay attention when He tells me exactly what that is.
You’re blessed. Be a blessing!
OKAY, LORD, YOU’VE GOTTEN my attention. Now what?
IT’S EASY AT TIMES LIKE THIS to push prayer into the beseeching camp—far away from the listening-and-observing mode. After all, begging feels so natural.
BUT, UNNATURAL OR NOT, listening-and-observing, which is how I think of meditation, is vital in my relationship with God. He is not to be confused with Santa. The lens of gratitude must be focused on a still, serene place to recognize His guidance.
BUT, HOW DO I FIND THAT PLACE? I’m not one to repeat a rosary long enough to empty my mind, and folding myself with a hum into a lotus position only makes me feel ridiculous. Everyone has to find the way that works for him or her. Mine is with a fountain pen.
MY PRAYER JOURNAL hears my Job-like complaints and eventually helps me overcome my distrust and doubts. Days of writing may pass before I find in the splotchy pages the answer God has been trying to get me to hear. He speaks so softly, and my life—especially when I’m afraid—is SO noisy.
AND HOW DO I KNOW I’m hearing God and not just my own wishes magnified by a narcissistic angle?
I BEGIN BY ASKING that I be able to set aside what I’m SURE of and what I WANT so that I might hear what I don’t know and what I’m meant to do. Thus far, the answers I’ve received bear no semblance to what I’ve hoped for; haven’t seemed possible; and have taken me so far along the unfrequented path that many of my friends and family have had to learn to tolerate my nuttiness. (Oh, yes, I once was a conventional woman! I often long for the days when I didn’t raise eyebrows.)
BUT, I HAVE NO DOUBT this is path I’m supposed to be on.
AND NOW, AS I PROCESS this bit of bad news from the doctor whose research I fully support, even if I can’t participate, I know that if I will listen carefully and meditate with my heart and not with my own understanding, a new route will be revealed.
IN THE MEANWHILE, with God’s help, I will keep fear—that old enemy of healing—at a safe distance and remind myself that I am—just like all of us—well loved.
GOD WANTS ONLY THE BEST FOR ME. My job is to pay attention when He tells me exactly what that is.
You’re blessed. Be a blessing!
posted by Chronic Hope at 5:19 PM
1 Comments:
Tamara, I finally started reading your book and tonight I couldn't get to sleep. I opened the computer and decided to google your name. I have read many of your blog posts. What a blessing my sleeplessness was! I will pray for you. Thanks for sharing.
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