The Green Room: The Presence

The Green Room: The Presence: "How do you practice the presence of God?"

The Presence

How do you practice the presence of God?

Scattered

I am having a lot of trouble with focus. Perhaps wearing several different hats doesn't help.

I just counted seven.

So cutting out something is becoming the only answer to sanity. Should I cut out the money making activity, or the things that I do for fun?

As I write this, my daughter is attempting to pull me into her new venture - decorating cupcakes. Eight, if my resistance gives way.

The irony is giving me a metal taste in my mouth.

I sometimes think that the famed Renaissance men were proficient at so many things because they simply couldn't choose. Isn't there an app for that? Over curious, under decisive creatives who say no to a new thing only on their death beds, and even then...

I am the equivalent of a pellet gun. Lots of little things flying in many directions. Kind of dangerous. Those of you who know me can just shake your heads and go back to your housework, and day jobs. It never will be that cut and dried for me.

I could stop and take myself in hand and order my day rationally. But, I rarely do.

I must like it this way.

How do you stay focused?

Wanting

"Everything you ever wanted, in a permanent state..." sung Coldplay's Chris Martin, as I dropped my high schooler off this morning.

Was he singing about heaven?


Tapping into a place in me that I don't wear on my sleeve, his words brought me to tears, and I wondered how often I think about what I really want.

Modern life is like a coddling mother, offering instant food and drink, continuous social connection  and the promise of the good life through possessions that have not been available to so many people during the whole history of the world. We are perhaps numbed into a state of quasi-contentment. 

CS Lewis suggests the following:

Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak.  

For the two minutes it took me to drive back from my daughter's school after I dropped her off, I told God exactly what I wanted. 

He listened. 

He knew.

And now, so do I. 

To Write, Perchance To Publish

Getting a late start at writing is...well...difficult. My brother joined the Army at 39. I guess it runs in the family.

The writing I do in my head, and have done all my life has been influenced by one author and one author alone.

Charlotte Bronte.

Her book, (or rather a filmmaker's newest conception of it)  Jane Eyre will be once again thrust onscreen on March 11, and I have a ticket waiting in my purse to go see it.


I have now reached an age which Miss Bronte was not fortunate to have achieved, and I have not published a substantial work yet, much less a work of the import and influence of a writer who, by her own admission considered the public 'indulgent' for inclining it's ear to a 'plain tale with few pretensions'. The modesty and understatement of her assertion could not have been more off the mark. Her writing hits the mark unerringly.

In rereading this gothic favorite, I have seen the self Miss Bronte carved into my being when at age twelve I read it with a mixture of great horror and delight for the first time. Identifying with the principle-guided suffering servant, I have tended not to asserted my voice, but rather have waited to be called upon. During the course of the narrative, numerous answers to pleas for help, however, are sent as Jane calls out to a higher power, which for her is the Christian God of the Bible. In this, I continue to copy Jane daily.

As Miss Bronte sent her work out for publication, one must assume her proactive energies were beyond the somewhat passive character of Jane. I am still learning from her.

One theme infused in the character of Jane I retain as my life goal: striving to follow God's law even to my own great personal distress, and an absolute reliance on God to provide the life He planned for me.

This is the treasure of Jane Eyre.

The Invisible and the Unspoken

How do you explain to someone that  you live your life based on an invisible hero? On a historical moment or series of moments that have been the most disputed events of all time? On a life and world view that has perpetrated more good and evil than probably any other outlook?  On a 'faith' adventure that you have yet to fully see come to fruition?

Well, the truth is, you don't usually get a chance to explain this, because few of life's moments allow conversations of this depth. Seldom do we get past the Justin Beiber movie, or the topic of weather (really? there's something to talk about in California?) or the newest hot topic of the economy, and the accompanying slew of political entities we blame for it.

But, it broils beneath the surface. Like when one of my students teased, "What are you going to do with your last year since the world is ending in 2012?" Did he really want to know what I was going to do? Or did he want to know if I was a scared as he that it might be true?  Or when my neighborhood gangsters slather some secret code on my parks' bathroom wall. They are begging for notice, for significance, for engagement in a conversation about power. Or when my radio proclaims that they have found a solution for a good night's sleep. Don't we all want that? To lie down and sleep in safety?

The conversation is swirling around us. We need to speak the language, pick up the dialect.

9-11 presented a crash course in spiritual language, a Rosetta Stone of necessity. God knows we speak it best when reduced to the common denominator - survival.

Let's grab the open mic. As Augustine said, "Preach the gospel, and when necessary, use words."

The Holy Spirit

Have you ever wondered what the world would be like if everyone were totally surrendered to the Holy Spirit? The thought is almost as scary and wierd as total apocalypse, minus the violence, of course.

I mean, what would God ask of us, and what would He be free to do among us if we said yes and really meant it?

My pastor's talk from Acts last night prompted me,with my stoic, proper Protestant background to say, "Yes, Lord" to whatever. I had to add in that I wasn't necessarily trusting in the Pentecostal version of things, but I certainly do trust God. If there's something He wants for me, I don't ever want to say no. I think He knew that still meant yes.

And in addition to the gifts of the Spirit, such as healing, tongues, prophecies, etc. I couldn't help thinking of the fruit of the Spirit, ie love, joy, peace...

We hold back from getting love, joy and peace? Are we crazy?

Well, no, just scared.

After all, Apocalypse is easier to visualize, don't you think?