Emotionally unable to follow the instructions for my classwork this week, here is what poured out of me in response to the lockdown we are all experiencing-
I have had to attend to my actual self in ways I did not know were needed- much has been revealed to me about the vices of my heart which have long been underground. Although this has been painful, it has been the grace of God because it has pointed me on the long road towards freedom. Not that I am free now- but I have sampled it and long for more. I realize now that I need Jesus to show up for me in real time and tell me truths about myself which I need to hear, but which no human being has been able to deliver in a way in which I can receive. My Lord, unlike His flawed human children, is capable of doing this in a perfect way, bit by bit, until I am slowly convinced of His Truth by the persuasive abundance of evidence He has laid out for me in my prayer projects, journaling and blogging. There has risen within me an inner clinging to Christ and a desire for fruits I have not yet tasted.
It is here in my essay that I wanted to pan out and give an overview of my spiritual transformation over the past 36 years, but because of the recent events of the “shelter in place” order for California, I am rendered incapable of continuing. I want to say I am confident and stable, secure in my faith, but my body betrays me- I am not emotionally or mentally capable of spending my time on the specific class material as it was assigned. Adapting this paper to my circumstances as best I can, I will do the only thing I am capable of today- attend to the work of the Spirit within me and submit to His prompting. Here a profound study of spiritual theology can be engaged as the Spirit leads me into my response to the oppression of social panic and fear. Here I find a tight window of observation where I can evaluate His spiritual formation within me on a smaller time scale, beginning with several events that are in direct connection to the quarantine order which is still unfolding today. As I have struggled to process and submit to the government orders, in my anxiety my Lord has drawn to my attention specific ways in which He prepared me for this coming trial. I find relief and purpose in looking at the way He has provided for me even in such a time as this and recalling the recent past which was nearly just yesterday. In this part of my essay I wish to touch on several specific events which bring me comfort in the oppression I feel heavy on my chest today as I continue to process the sudden stripping of my daily routine.
First, solitude. The biggest struggle I face in this quarantine is my lack of solitude- there is now never a time when I am alone, and this may continue on for another month or even more. As an introvert this brings significant challenges and high levels of stress. But the comfort is this- I have just come from a long season where I had more silence and solitude than ever before in my life. I was called to silence, solitude and tranquility of spirit almost daily for a number of months prior to this quarantine. It felt like a very specific calling, but I was mystified as to why. I was obedient but doubtful. It seemed I was hoarding solitude and silence with God, and the drive to do so came from outside of myself. This calling became a purgation where I was given the gentle presence of a non-anxious God. He sent me shafts of sunlight and choruses of birds in the day, the glow of the moon and melodies of owls in the night, a rocking chair for contemplation and prayer projects for purgation. This calling to a season of purgative stillness is one that stretched the capacity of my soul to now receive the season of this isolation starved of all solitude entirely. Here now I understand why my Lord was piling my memories high with a persuasive abundance of cooperative silence beside Him. While others hoarded toilet paper, I hoarded solitude with my Lord like it was a secret and valuable treasure. For this I am now deeply grateful, and thank my Lord for giving such a timely and perfect gift.
Secondly, a dream. It came several weeks ago. In it I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing, except that I was in an outside area full of many strangers. There in the crowd, I found myself locking eyes with a tall dark man across the way who was engaged in conversation with several others. In that instant, my heart was drawn to him and I literally forgot my earthly identity- as I watched him with rapt adoration, I could only recall with great effort the fleeting thought that I am a wife and mother. For me, once I discovered this man nearby, I could think only of him and never wanted him out of my sight again- all else dissolved in my consciousness except for this one thought, that I must remain near him and be seen by him for as long as possible. I desired that he know everything about me, that I stand out from the crowd to him. When I woke up I wondered who that could have been that my mind would concoct such a dramatic character that resembled no person I have ever known in real life. It occurred to me several hours later in prayer who this was- my Lord. It was He that moved me with love so deeply that I forgot all else entirely- indeed, nothing else mattered in the least except His presence. The object of knowledge in my dream, this tall dark man, so moved my will in love that my mind submitted with total assent to the love of God. This dream revealed to me the feelings that occur in a right relationship between love and faith- it gave me a goal and desire for fruits which I have only tasted but briefly. This dream exposed the potential of my heart, and I can now recall this image in a time of social fear, personal anxiety and stress when the properties of this quarantine become too oppressive.
Lastly, a resurrection. One day several weeks ago I witnessed a hummingbird smack into the window and fall twitching to the ground. It convulsed violently as I leaned over it, with tongue sticking out and eyes closed. I scooped it up with a napkin and lay it’s jerking body in the shade away from exposure to predators or heat. As I leaned over the tiny creature, the wind moved the chimes that hang from our balcony and I felt a prompting to pray. Simply as a child, I asked aloud for Jesus to heal the dying creature. Then I went inside and ate lunch, going about my day while keeping an eye on the bird. Several hours later, it had become entirely still but when I leaned over it I noticed its eyes were blinking. It was paralyzed, it seemed, but looking straight at me with awareness. I moved the napkin just a bit, and like magic it rose up into the air with the buzzing of its wings and promptly landed in a tree close by. It remained there for a long time simply looking at me. Unsure whether it was thankful or curious, I drew very near and met its gaze, contemplating in my heart the way my prayer had been answered. We stared at one another for several minutes before it flew away into the wilderness behind my home.
And here now I can conclude by saying that I have learned the voice of my Lord in ways that only He could teach me. All of this was in preparation for the trial to come. For this I am humbly thankful, and see the fruits of His transforming process in a time of need. During this quarantine so far I have drawn upon all these recent memories as ways to aid in the transformation of my heart that is occurring under the pressure of disruption and change. Specifically, today is the first Saturday of quarantine, which makes it a hard day. I finally have enough time to move out of response-mode and think honestly about the sudden stripping of my daily routine. I have settled into a new way of isolation which weighs heavy as I slow down today to stop shouldering the load of change. Today and in the days to come the enemy will be at work trying to pull me into old sin habits which numb or redirect the pain. Because of the spiritual transformation He has been working in me over the past months, I am aware that I have the option to stand strong by remaining open to the Lord. I can lean on these memories of His work and allow Him to lead me by His voice which I have actually begun to recognize in bits and pieces.
The trust comes now when I look at the ways He has already led me. As I listen to the sound of His voice in the upper room of my home, where the sunlight streams in, the breeze blows through the chimes and the birds chatter amongst themselves, I can trust that He is working. When I sit and contemplate in that chair upstairs, I really believe that He is near- that He draws near to me as I draw near to Him. In this place in my home I can find reasons not to surrender to the temptation to squelch the transformation happening inside, but to open to it. The sin habits of my heart will grapple with my human fragility and neediness, yes. But when I hear His voice I can remember to surrender to my weakness in Christ rather than my strengths in sin. He has continued to give me today my daily bread, and although quarantine is not the same as solitude, His response to my call has not changed at all. When I falter, which feels like hourly since this began, He invites me to remember His provision of comfort.
Indeed, I have been comforted by things out of my control- owls that visit in the night, hooting back and forth in the dusk, birds flitting and chattering throughout the day, a breeze which rustles the drapes and wraps around the chimes below my balcony. The sunlight which streams in onto my rocking chair and warms my toes while I write, and the clouds trail across the blue sky. The yellow blooms and the green leaves grow for miles behind my home. I can control none of these things. I cannot summon them to come or force them to remain. When the owls visit, I am grateful and call back to them without claiming them as mine. When the dying humming bird rose from my hands, I was delighted without crediting my will for making it so. When the clouds roll by, I gaze upon them with joy without demanding them to stop or perform for me. Thus, when my Lord comforts me in this difficult time, I can open to Him without demanding that my trials be taken away. I can receive without hoarding because He continues to provide. If that which I do not control can comfort me, what then should I fear? Clearly, my Lord provides because He loves. I am learning even as I doubt. Hour by hour I must trust anew, and hour by hour He surrounds me and invites me in this ever-unfolding process of hard and unwanted change. That I sometimes hate the fragility and weakness of my own faith does not daunt Him- the persistence of my Lord is gentle but firm. Just as my doubts about God do not keep Him from working new life in me, neither does my fear of tomorrow prevent the sun from rising upon a new day. His provision of transformation is not fragile, nor is it conditional- in this I find hope.
A prayer rose up in me on the night the quarantine went into effect- This prayer has been simmering and bubbling within me for over a week now. Every time I came to the computer to begin my work, my Lord simply said “not yet”, and I sat there for several minutes drawing a blank until I surrendered and walked away. After the “shelter in place” order, it was midnight when my Lord began forming these words in my soul, and I argued with Him because it was late. Yet I also recognized that it was Him because it was given at such an inopportune and unexpected moment, quite against the desires of my flesh, which was to go to sleep. As the Spirit had His way with me in the tossing and sleepless night, my prayer finally emerged up and out onto paper. As it poured out, I surrendered to His will even as I struggled against it. Prayer truly is a battleground these past days. Comfort cannot be hoarded, only received. Truly, His work is stirring forcefully in me like an abundance of persuasion within-
Be still oh my soul and know that He comforts you. This is a deep and hidden comfort that cannot be detected by your worldly senses. Be still and trust that He comforts you, my soul, but He does so in secret. The fruit of this comfort will be a new wine, formed under the pressure of fear and crushed by the passing of time, this mental and emotional pressure to which I am now subject. The Beloved is making a new wine in me, and He is making a new way through me. May I carry this mission with honor, that I am a chosen vessel for the fruits of His crushing and pressing. Be still, oh my soul, and know that my Lord is the Provider, the refiner and the beautifier of my eternal being. The pressing will only push me deeper into Him. The crushing will only open me more deeply to His love. The world will taste this new wine and so He will be glorified through me, His beloved child. In Christ’s holy name.
Amen.
