I can’t seem to follow the directions for connecting with God this morning.
It’s not that I think He has moved.
It’s not that I haven’t found him from this very spot many times before. It’s just that this morning the routes all feel blocked.
It’s like at a busy airport where there are arrows to Concourse A, B, C, Baggage Claim, Taxi, Ground Transportation but it’s not clear which arrow is designated to any specific spot.
When you have been at this airport before, you KNOW that the connecting door you want is there, so you move in the familiar direction, even though you can’t see any reassurance that you will find what you so desperately need.
So, this morning I will head in the direction I KNOW even though I haven’t yet been reassured by anything tangible.
I am playing praise music, even though most of it sounds hallow.
I have let 3 trusted friends know that I cannot pray this morning. I know they will pray for me. I know that my sharing my weakness will not frighten them away or cause them to despair.
I have a Bible nearby and I know where to read. It’s just that I don’t want to read right now.
So I gather the stories that are breaking my heart and bind them with the blood stained cord. I place them gently, but securely, in the nail scarred Hand.
Writing is a gift that shortens the distance between God and me.
For those of you reading this, be thankful. I will find the gate or the One waiting will find me.
Even, now Saint, Mother Theresa had those dark moments. Don’t give up. We are only human.