Over the past months, the Lord has been patiently leading me
by the hand, giving me a gentle tug when my feet halt, extending out His other
arm when I stumble, and more than anything, waiting in the times when my hand
lets go of His.
It would be silly to lead with “it all began when…” since it
is imperative to recognize that He’s been leading me by the hand all along.
However, this phase of the journey distinguished itself on Holy Saturday of
this year (2015). Meditating on the first thoughts that morning of two of
Jesus’ closest followers, I found myself astonished by the stark contrast
between Mary and Peter. In my prayer, Mary woke up within the city walls with a
tear stained face but overwhelming peace and hope in her heart. Moreover, there
was a joy and trust in the expectation of what was to come. Her suffering would
not be in vain. Rather, it would become redemptive, united with that of her Son.
Peter, on the other hand, hardly slept at all. Wide-eyed and trembling, he had
gone as far as his feet could take him. Running through the night looking for
any place to hide. Anguish filled his entire being. “What just happened? They say He’s dead. But…how can this be?”
Without prompting it, His mind flashed through the miracles, the manifestations
of His divinity, the Transfiguration. “He
said He was the Son of God. I said He was the Son of God. But…how could this
happen to the Son of God?” Even fresher on his mind was the last gaze he exchanged
with his Master and Friend. “If He is who
He said He is – who I said He is –, then I betrayed the Son of God…three
times.”
What is the difference between these two? One has lost all
hope, blinded by the events of the world. The other has maintained her hope by
focusing on Christ. One turns in on himself for understanding and comfort. The
other turns to her Lord in prayer. And the irony of it all? He who left:
doubts; she who stayed, standing, looking at Christ: believes. Mary gave
everything in staying while Peter held everything back in fleeing.
What was the Lord speaking to me through this imaginative
prayer?
Don’t turn away in fear from the cross. Stay. Remain in My love. If we
keep eye-contact, you can walk on water. Your faith will not be taken from you.
Your hope will not subside if you stay with Me, watching and praying. It is in
the moment that you turn from Me, inevitably to the world, that doubts creep in
and your mind gets clouded and complicated. Look at Me. I am simplicity. Learn from Me. Give all of yourself
and you will rise. But to rise, you first have to die…to journey through the
cross. So at the first sign of difficulty, pain, suffering don’t turn away. I
can’t heal or soothe what’s not broken. Face the cross; bear it so I can carry
it with you. Let Me be your Way, your Truth, and your Life. Let Me draw you to
Myself. Let Me consume you in My love. Let
Me be yours so that you can be Mine. (journal entry April 4)
Let Me be yours so
that you can be Mine. These words have followed me so closely since that
first prayer. Both as a joy and a mystery. How
can You be mine Lord? How can I ever make that claim over You? (journal
entry April 7). But oh how I want to…
Over the months Jesus has unpacked this mystery for me. His
word truly is alive as it continues to draw me in deeper beyond what appears to
be its greatest depths. Throughout the summer His invitation was clear and
consistent: Choose Me. (journal entry
July 3)
“For whoever would
save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find
it.” (Mt16:25)
Oh how often I seek to save my life. With my gaze fixed on
myself, I spend my days dodging humiliation and tiptoe-ing around opportunities
to serve. Dying to self has no attraction for me. But His voice does and His
voice calls: Look at Me. Choose Me.
In the more recent months I have found myself in a greater
struggle between my strong desire for simplicity and my unfortunate tendency
toward complication. I can be rather mental and analytical which can be a
strength, but when focused on oneself becomes merely an engine of exhaustion
and discouragement. My own voice – a whisper compared to that of God – and my
feeble attempts at controlling my spiritual life left me with the sensation of
staring at the previous months of simplicity, stillness, and intimacy with the
Lord through an impenetrable glass wall.
“I miss You Jesus. Externally so many things have been going on but
interiorly? I just want to be with You. Why has that become so difficult? I
feel like there’s a lot of stuff inside, cramped and crowded creating tension
and distraction. There’s a lot of mental activity also. But prayer isn’t just
mental. It’s an act of the heart and the will as well. Find me in this mess
Lord and free me with Your love, peace, hope, joy. Give me a greater trust in
You.” (journal entry Oct 11)
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when I finally allowed the
Lord to break through the barrier I had become for myself. I can say however as
has been my experience, the moments of greatest recognition of God’s Voice
always immediately follow an act of complete abandonment of myself to Him. I only
truly tune into the Voice of the Good Shepherd when I see myself for what I am:
a helpless and broken, undeservedly and incredibly beloved, little sheep. When
I surrender to my need for the Lord, I hear His Voice in a way that is so
certain that even later moments of desolation can’t convince me otherwise.
This particular day was difficult as I came face to face
with the brokenness that is most currently manifesting itself in my life.
Having turned my gaze in on myself, the levies I’d constructed to hide from it
in my attempts to control and fix it were buckling under its surging waves.
Alone in my room, I received an invitation to go to the Lord. There in the
chapel I broke down before Him and gave Him what He wanted: me in the helpless
mess that I am. And you know what? He spoke directly to my fear. His voice was
clear and cut through all loneliness and discouragement. “How could I give you up?” (Hos 11:8) The next day all I longed for
in prayer was to be with Him who couldn’t give me up. Still finding difficulty
in the silence, I sat amidst peace and comfort that I hadn’t known in longer
than I realized (journal entry Oct 14).
This led me to return to perhaps my favorite passage in
scripture: John 21. Recalling to mind Peter and his mental and emotional state
after the passion, death, and resurrection of his Lord, I entered into another
imaginative prayer. “Cherise, do you love
Me?” He asks for the third time. “Lord, You know everything. You know that I
love You.” “Follow Me.”
“I’m discouraged by my brokenness and all You ask is: ‘Cherise do you
love Me?’
All that is required is love of You…then I can follow You with trust,
remaining in You, bearing fruit, being Your disciple and thus glorifying the
Father.” (journal entry Oct 25)
Like to Peter, the Lord asks me to let go. To not try to
control or cover up, much less fix my brokenness. That is His to deal with. My
task is simple. I must love Him. I must fix my gaze on His face and remain in
His love.
“Your love of Me makes you beautiful.” (journal entry Nov 3)
“Let Me tell you of your beauty.” (journal entry Nov 8)
My meditation today sent me on a journey into the past. A
journey of gratitude and amazement. I was searching for Him but in the wrong
context. I couldn’t reach Him so I started to move, but the motion only
distanced me further. He doesn’t ask for my doing. He asks for my being. This
whole time the Lord has been calling me into His stillness. “Do what a lover does” He beckons. “Sit and stay awhile. Remain in Me” (Jn
15:4).
The path of perfection is love. Love simplifies and brings
unity. (Meditation by Fr. Steve Beseau)
“Love Me as a response to My loving you.” (journal entry Nov 9)
“If my primary identity is that I am loved, and doing comes from being,
than my primary mission is to respond to that love...That which is deepest in my
being is the simplest thing because it is what I was created for – to love You.
I am fulfilled only when I’m loving You with everything that I have, am, and
will be.” (also Nov 9)
All that is required of me is love because after love
everything else follows.
Jesus’s answer to my prayer for simplicity: “Love Me.”
“Love
simplifies. Love is simple. I am Love.” (journal entry Nov 9)
