Sometimes, it works like this: (or is it always...)

I spend a lot of time trying to understand how the universe works.  I guess that makes me a pretty normal human - we have been trying to suss this whole earthly existence out since our first ancestor looked up at the stars and asked "why?  How?"  And we have been asking "why" and "how" questions ever since.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  How do I know if I am following God's leading for my life?  Why is life unfair?  How do I know God is with me?

An ancient explanation for how do I know if I am following God's leading for my life has enjoyed a resurgence in the past decade - repackaged for a new audience, under the heading called "flow."  It suggests that if you are following God's leading for your life, you will find yourself in that zone called "flow" - a place where life is almost effortless, and everything falls into place.  If, instead, you find yourself swimming against the tide, working really hard, and getting beached again and again, that is evidence that you are not in the "flow" - you are working outside the will of God.

It's a seductive explanation, isn't it.  And I have no doubt (because I have experienced this first hand) that there are times in life when it absolutely works like this - you get into a grove, and life feels almost effortless.  But just because it works that way sometimes, it is a mistake to generalize and assume it must always work that way.

Sometimes, the holiest and most transformative work we do is the work that turns us inside-out, upside-down, and leaves us struggling to breathe.  Sometimes, the work Spirit invites us to do is the hardest damn work we have ever done.  It can even feel like a Sisyphean endeavor - we push the rock up the mountain with all our strength, only to have it roll back down to the bottom of the mountain - sometimes running over us in the process!  And all that is left to do is start again.  But - the jaw-dropping part of even the hardest moments in life is that - if we pay attention - we find moments of unexpected grace.  And they are positively amazing.

Today, from noon until 4 pm, I pushed the rock up the hill, had it mow me down, and started pushing it up again.  It was not pretty, and there was no flow, except for tears.  I got home around 4 pm and prepared to sip a grande soy hot chocolate, only to lose my grip on it and have it hit the floor with explosive force.  It was, unfortunately, not half empty - it was a full cup of hot chocolate.  What a mess!  There was sticky hot chocolate everywhere, and I cannot get down on the floor to easily and effectively clean it up.  And - it was 4 pm, and I was due to talk with my spiritual director via telephone.  So I dropped some paper towels on top of the mess, walked around the lake of chocolate, grabbed the phone and sat down on the bench by the window to take some deep breaths and call my soul friend.

I wanted to cry.  I wanted to laugh (it was all so off-the-charts- absurd).  I was tired, and emotionally spent.  And I had a sticky mess to clean up (walls, floor, furniture, carpet - me).  But as I dialed the phone to speak with my soul friend, I remembered something that had happened this morning...

...I remembered sitting by that very window eating breakfast, when - completely unexpectedly - a small, beautiful white feather gently floated past the window, being carried by the wind.  It was fairly still this morning, so the feather floated down ever-so-gently - floating to the right, and then to the left.  I watched it for what seemed like forever - it was very beautiful.  Then I entered into my very hard day, forgetting about the feather.

As I talked with my director about the reality of today, and about how tired I felt because of it, I remembered the feather, and told her about it.  I could tell by the tone and energy in her voice that she had something important to share, and she said "I am a feather on the breath of God."  She paused, and said "That is a quote from Hildegard - you are being held by God - God's very breath. Sustained and upheld by God."  And she silently let me sit with this image, as it seeped all the way to my core.  I can tell when something resonates with  my core because the tears flow.  Hildegard has always been one of my favorite spiritual guides, and yet I had never before heard this quote.  Until today.  Until I needed to hear it, so I could find meaning in the gift of the feather, a gift that was offered to me long before I got mowed down by the rock, or redecorated my entryway with hot chocolate.

Sometimes, it works like this:  Grace and sustenance is present, and generously offered, even before we ask for it.  Even before we need it - before the the rock, aided by gravity, mows us down.  God with us - lovingly, gently, present as we do really hard work.  Surrounding us - upholding us.  And in those moments that feel impossible...

...we can float like a feather on the breath of God.

Perhaps it doesn't just sometimes work like this; maybe it always works like this.  But we are so distracted by our circumstances that we do not notice God's graceful presence, sustaining us.  And so God sends us a feather, and a soul friend, to remind us.

Being upheld,
Kim