Answering a Persistent God

I've been praying a lot lately, in the middle of the night when I’m awake, unable to get back to sleep. If I succeed in reeling in my mind, breathing deeply and steadily, allowing “the peace of God that passes all understanding” to have its way with me, the fear that leads the adrenalin charge abates. “Listen” is the title of the reading for January 21, 2009 from “Science of the Mind Magazine”. I don’t have a subscription. The monthly magazine sits handy in friend Steve’s upstairs bathroom. Early Wednesday morning, as I rose, challenged by uncertainty, the magazine sat open to words that I needed in the worst way. “There are no mistakes, no coincidences; all events are blessings, given to us to learn” (Elisabeth Kübler-Ross) begins the reading. The writer of the meditation goes on to advise that we “Listen for the whisper or wait for the brick”. A search of the Internet suggests that lots of people have reflected on this call to listen up to a “persistent God.”

Clearly, I am in the majority of pilgrims who by our nature have concluded that we are the source of strength our lives demand all day long every day. When will we ever learn? “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) Long ago I realized that the best way to calm my mind in the middle of the night—I rarely have trouble going to sleep—is to start blessing everyone in my life, name by soul, one by one. I start near, and the list grows amazingly long. I didn’t realize I cared about so many people.

As I sat with a small group watching inaugural activities the night of January 20, our new president acknowledged the many faiths of Americans—Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu—AND non believers. One of the guests said, “Thank you.” I took his response to mean that he included himself among non believers, but maybe I misunderstood. What I don’t misunderstand is my own need to surrender to my God. As hard headed as I can be, I heed the call to surrender “without any conditions or reservations. I shall not bargain.” (from the meditation, attributed to theologian Howard Thurman). Deprive me of my arrogance. Take this burden from me.

Many suggest that they can make it on their own. How odd, to me, that anyone would even want to make it on his own. Although at times a solitary creature, I embrace my need for others, and though I encounter plenty of people whose company I wouldn’t choose—at least not readily—I trust that our meetings are by some design. What I do with this challenge leaves me with choices—to understand and to act upon as we make our pilgrim way.

As I lay on the table for physical therapy early this morning—my back, neck and shoulders complaining, even after a month of twice weekly sessions—the therapist asked if there is anything going on in my life that might be contributing to the tightness she continues to feel in my peripheral spinal muscles. I answer myself with a sigh—life, I guess, my nature. Were I to engage my days with the prayerful pleadings of my middle of the night entreaties, maybe I would figure out what takes such a toll on this body/mind that struggles against the forces carrying me along. If I could somehow pray myself to the peace that passes all understanding, oh…. How I would pray, how I would pray.

Answering a Persistent God—Santa Fe, New Mexico
R. Harold Hollis