God’s Immeasurable Heart

   “God is a nudge.  Not in the nagging, annoying sense,

   but in a gentle, leaning-into sense.”    - Gregory Boyle, from

   Barking to the Choir: Power of Radical Kinship

       Anyone who’s a cat lover knows that feeling of their cat brushing against their leg, as they saunter by.  It can happen because there’s someone new in the room, and they are proclaiming, “This human is mine,” or it can mean “You know you haven’t fed me yet.  Just sayin’...”  But there’s another way too that certain cats can get their message across.

I used to have a beautiful, long-haired gray cat (rather, he had me).  He and I had many little games we played together; he was delightful, and I loved him dearly.  He had this way of letting me know he was there that was unique to him:  When I was working at the kitchen sink, he would walk up behind me, start to brush against my calves – then he would stop – stay there and then L-E-A-N.  It wasn’t annoying and it wasn’t nagging; his leaning against me was gentle but firm.  He knew I was there, and I knew he was there. 

So when I read Fr. Boyle’s description of God, I could relate it to the years I had with our Little Bit (or Kevin, as I used to call him).  Like him, God nudges to let us know He is here.  Like a dear cat, God can warmly and firmly lean into us, proclaiming we are His own.

As I continue growing in my spiritual life, I can often sense when God is actively working in my life.  It’s a way of discernment that comes from spending lots of hours solely in God’s Presence.  (It takes practice and devotion to know it is God and not just my ego.)  I can tell when God is nudging me gently forward.  Sometimes when I hesitate, God leans in until I sense God is with me, and then I can go forward in confidence.  But I need to be aware of God’s subtleties.  

We’ve heard that God is found in that “still small voice.”  In other words, God doesn’t approach in chaos and destruction.  God is waiting patiently for us to listen for guidance – God doesn’t mindlessly shove us into situations that will harm us.  God is found in the quiet – God rarely, if ever, uses the cacophony of life in this highly charged, overly loud, often angry, me-focused world to reach out to us.  (But then again, God can use whatever method God wants!)

So today, I invite you to be aware.  Is God nudging you toward something that brings a sense of peace?  Is God gently encouraging you to be aware of the Spirit's guidance?  Is God leaning in to let you know that the Divine is all around you? 

I hope your day is blessed, and I hope you become aware of God’s immeasurable love for you.  💙

Midweek Meditation - The Heart of a Follower

"See I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of  wolves; 

so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves."

- Matthew 10:16   

      This morning I share this quote from the Gospel of Matthew.  The same story appears in Luke's Gospel as well, but "wise" is translated as shrewd. Regardless of how these words are translated, Jesus was advising his disciples on how to go out into the world - but not to become part of the world.

To be in the world, they will need to be wise and shrewd, because they will come across townspeople who will range from mere naysayers to people who will want to kill them. But through their mission, they are to remain as innocent as doves.  They are to follow their Teacher by His example of being blameless - gentle and humble of heart.

How do you feel as a believer at this time in history?  Do you sometimes feel like you are a lamb among wolves? Do you often run into those wolves in sheep's clothing we've been warned about?  Is it possible to be in the world without being part of the world - can you maintain your innocent outlook, your hope, and your faith?  Do you buy into the world's empty promises, or are you able to wisely choose what you think will be pleasing to God?  Do you even want to please God?

The next time your faith and resolution gets weakened by the pack animals of this world, remember these reassuring words of Jesus, as Chapter 10 continues:

"And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body...
Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? 
Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge.
Even all the hairs of your head are counted.
So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."

- Matthew 10: 28-31

💙

Living (and Dying) from the Heart

        On Saturday, I went to the memorial service for a spiritual mentor of mine who died in a rafting accident on the Yangtze River.  She was a lot younger than I and was used to more physicality than my life in recent years. Her passing was so unexpected. She will be missed by many people, and the good that she did while on earth will live on for many years.  Before, during, and after the service, I found myself pondering my mortality - again.

When Baby Boomers were young, we didn’t spend much time thinking about when we got older or about taking care of our future selves – body, mind, or spirit.  We lived in the present, for the moment, but not in the spiritual sense or the Zen sense of the word.  It basically boiled down to “Make love, not war” and “Turn on, tune in, drop out.” With whatever good intentions there may have been, these were debatable ideals with which to live one’s whole life.

I don’t expect those younger than me to die before me – and it’s even harder to find a reason, when they lived to serve humanity, with the glory of God in mind. It is one of the most difficult questions for which to find an answer.  So I did what I always do, when faced with something I want to understand better – I went looking for a book and found one by favorite author Henri Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring.

Nouwen was a devout priest and professor, a man who radiated the love of God, sharing it with everyone.  He spent much of his life wondering about how loveable he was to God, and yet, at the same time, expended much of his energy on making sure that everyone else knew that they were all God’s Beloved sons and daughters.  In writing this book, he wanted to “befriend death,” himself, as he watched so many of his family and friends dying.  The very premise of the book – making friends with death - was perfect for my mood. It got me thinking that if we make friends with death, it shouldn't, in theory, frighten us any longer. (Right?) And the most important lesson, I think, to learn is that by befriending death, we are also befriending God.

You see, we go through life, being watched over and loved by our Creator constantly.  God is everywhere at all times, loving us through our unloveliness and in our goodness.  But so many people don’t like knowing that God is close to us, and not out-there somewhere, because they fear God’s judgment and wrath.  But when one is the beloved, one is not afraid of the Lover.  We know that we are cared for, and the Lover wants us to know and trust that loving care. 

In his book, Nouwen tells the brief story of meeting a troupe of German circus acrobats. He loved their high-flying tricks, so he went backstage to tell them, and eventually he became friends with them.  He talked with one of the flyers and asked how it all worked.  His new friend told him that to be successful at his craft, he had to have “’complete trust in my catcher… the real star is … my catcher…. The secret is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything.  When I fly to [the catcher], I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me …’” It turns out that if the flyer grabbed on to the catcher, he would break the catcher’s wrists, so the flyer must trust that he will be caught safely.

Nouwen wrote that when he heard this, “the words of Jesus flashed through my mind: ’Father, into your hands, I commend my Spirit.’  Dying is trusting in the catcher.  To care for the dying is to say, ‘Don’t be afraid. Remember that you are the beloved child of God.  He will be there when you make your long jump.  Don’t try to grab him; he will grab you. Just stretch out your arms and hands and trust, trust, trust.”  (pp 66-67)

I sat with that story for a while and kept returning to the image during the rest of the weekend.  Death is a surrendering – the ultimate trusting submission to God.  As we grow in our love for God, ourselves, and our neighbor, we learn to trust God even more.  And isn’t that part of the worry that some people have about death?  They don’t trust that there’s going to be Someone or anyone out there. But as believers, knowing Whose beloved we are, we can grow in our trust until comes the day when we simply “stretch out” our arms and fall into the loving Hands of the One who will catch us.  

Thanks be to God!   💙