Part 09: Relationship to God10/14/2008 7:22:12 AM (Words in italics are those I’ve added to clarify or explain something.) You can see from these entries that I still think of God as ‘him.’ That will change, but slowly. I am also struggling with changing perceptions about God, raising certain questions but still needing the assurance and safety of familiar answers. Journal Entry I wonder if I’ll ever trust God enough so that I don’t get angry at him. Probably not. I’m human and anger’s a response of my humanness. Very seldom do we experience righteous anger like God’s anger. Our anger is too self-centered, too easily directed at God. But will I ever learn that instead of being angry when I’m hurt and keeping God at a distance, to run straight to his arms and allow him to hold me close and love me, and enable me to keep on going. To live in trust—that is the true meaning of peace, and all of it comes from God. Not resignation, but active trust. Journal Entry Why don’t I feel inspired? I know how easily I put up barriers in front of God. Maybe I need to trust him more to get through those barriers. God isn’t punishing me for not being a perfect little girl when I don’t feel his presence. I’m a little confused here. Do I think there’s a magic formula or procedure to use to make sure the Holy Spirit works—to guarantee success? Sounds rather controlling, doesn’t it? Journal Entry God says ‘now I know’ (after Abraham showed his willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac). God doesn’t really know in the sense we know, what we will do, because we are free to respond however we will. When we respond we create another situation, a new moment, and then God responds to that. It’s a relationship—dynamic, alive and always filled with new possibilities—like a dance. Abraham’s obedience enabled God to bless him—it wasn’t a reward for good behavior. Abraham’s openness to God allowed God to be at work in Abraham’s life. Journal Entry Throughout this time, I’ve felt God’s presence. His gracious gift of those dreams, his continued teaching, his presence. There are times the transition hurts terribly, and yet I don’t feel abandoned. I know the hurt for what it is and although that doesn’t lessen it, it’s different somehow. How has this transition led to me seeing God differently? I know how it has led me to see people differently, but what about God? I’ll have to think about that. In a way I feel closer to God, and yet I know I didn’t work my way into that closeness. It’s more a matter of removing the ‘clutter’ that comes between God and me. I’m not talking about people, but how I construct my relationships with them, how I understand the world. People are not clutter. Actually, clutter isn’t the right word, for it smacks of judgment. My way of seeing was changed, and I somehow feel more anchored with the universe, with God, with the larger picture of things that goes even beyond the world. More anchored with existence itself, which has its being in God—nothing in-between like people or possessions. I feel more directly linked to God. This is probably why Jesus could do his ministry. He was able to see, to let go, and deal directly with God. I’m not saying humans ever reach the level of Christ, because we have the added disadvantage of sin. We can’t escape sin in this life; it’s part of every construct (how we process, how we perceive our experiences)—or is it part of our being which influences our constructs, so that we never see perfectly? I’m not sure. This is frightening me somewhat, and yet I know God will guide my thinking. I’m not going off the deep end, just thinking. Without God, without the death and life of Christ, how can we have anything at the center of our being? If being a child of God is the single most basic ‘us’, those who don’t see this—what’s at their center? A person can certainly change their way of thinking and not be a Christian, but can we grow without any sense of spirituality? If God is our Creator, than some kind of knowing/seeing a Creator/creature relationship is necessary, even if it’s not Christian. Our way of seeing doesn’t determine our salvation; it only determines how we live in this world and understand it. Christ remains the same; it is we who change. What about people who believe in God as Creator and Lord, yet don’t accept Christ? They can grow and evolve and serve God, yet what if a part of their knowing doesn’t include Christ? Is their ‘not seeing’ a sign of sinfulness or how they construct reality? How is God going to handle this? Not all answers will be clear to me. Much remains a mystery. But we are all in the hands of God. Journal Entry God’s power is so much at work in my life, I can’t look at anything I do and see only me. Sometimes I can look at a thought/writing that obviously comes from me and my sinfulness and limited thinking—so I can sometimes see where God isn’t, but I’m not even sure about that. All I know is that his Holy Spirit is so much a part of me, what I do, how and what I think, that I can’t point to anything of value and claim it as my own. Part of me and yet separate. I’m not a robot. It really is like a dance, a continual working and responding, not getting it, sometimes getting it, and then in spite of me and yet somehow with me, something of value is born. But never alone; never do I do it alone. Journal Entry I have been filled with arrogance; I’ve allowed my ‘seeing’ to set me apart. I really am unworthy—and yet I see Jesus looking at me with love from the cross. For this too, my arrogance, Jesus died. I am no better or worse than anyone else. We are all joined in ways that go far beyond constructs. Without arrogance, there is no fear. I’m only fearful of others if I think they’re better or worse than me. I’ve been battling myself, hiding in food and busyness, stilling the small, quiet voice of God. No wonder I’ve felt so powerless, so not me. I haven’t been true to who I am. This thing with arrogance and constructs: it’s not our constructs that make us human. That’s just another slant to the old idol of reason. How is it I could so completely hide myself from God and not know it? How could I not see that my hunger was far deeper than the physical, and that’s why food—no matter what the amount—couldn’t suffice. I’ve not been comfortable with my God and Friend, and so I’ve hidden in books, busyness and food.
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