Resist--then Accept

One ruminates on the past because of guilt over what one has done or left undone. One fears the future because of what one might do or not do.

Because of the movement of past into future at each moment one is distracted and deceived, distracted by thoughts on what was or will be, deceived by perceived consequences of past and future, the false perceptions that what one did in the past will be done in the future, that what one does in the future will be a burden of rumination when the action passes into memory.

If we could live completely in the moment without the passing of time, then we could be still, like God, and know, which would eliminate the fear of the future, the fear of future actions in imitation of past actions, fear of future actions based on the consequences of past actions. In this situation the brain is still because of complete knowledge, and one is silent because the noise of existence, ruminating thoughts and fears, don’t exist. However time will not allow us to live completely in the moment.

Therefore, one must seek the transcendent, find in the moment the glimpses of truth, find the connection one has to the Holy Spirit, to Christ, to God, in the singular moment. If one can focus on transcendent truths rather than distracting ruminations and fears, then we can perhaps rise above the deceptions, the inconstancy, confusing storms of life to see what is true and know it—not just mouth it, but believe it, have faith and hope it is there, truly know it. To know it is to solve the dilemma of transition, of becoming, of movement, rather to be still in the present, to share in the great “I am” that is Christ.

Even these thoughts I am writing can be deceptive. Even these thoughts can simply be thoughts in the moment without substance. How does one find the connection with God? How can one know for sure of this connection? Is it the Body and Blood. Is it the overwhelming peace of one’s body in a time of tremendous love, a clear moment of hearing, feeling God? It cannot just be one’s thoughts. It must be one’s feelings as well. Body and mind or soul must come together. God—the Word—must become flesh. Otherwise thoughts are fleeting. In time, perhaps, the body will register the inadequacy of the thought, and one will not feel right. The feeling, based on the thought, is not steadying, and there is no anchor. No, there must be a physical and mental component to this feeling of truth in the moment that helps release us from the bondage of the memory of the past and the anticipation of the future.

One moment in my life I know I was not deceived by ruminations in the past and anticipating thoughts of the future. Then, I had a mental, physical, and emotional response to a prayer, and I knew, by my body and mind, that God had been with me. It was my most powerful moment of conversion. It lasted all of two seconds. It completely changed me—in terms of my beliefs, faith, acceptance of God’s will.

But it did not change me in the sense of breaking from the burden of past and anticipation of future and deceptions of the moment. What it did was make me cognizant that my sinful actions were, are, and will be wrong; I became completely aware of my sin. I know God forgives, because He told me to accept: to accept myself, to accept my fears, doubts, ruminations, and past. But when one knows God, knows self and sin and narcissism and blindness, but then finds oneself burdened by the past, present, and future, the pain does not go away, even sometimes grows because of the awareness. I want to be released but have not found the path. I want to be free but I’m still a prisoner. I want to be still but cannot stop the movement. I want to experience complete love but have not yet been able to –there is too much deception, anger, self-loathing. Is it, then, death that I am awaiting? Is death the means of release? Since my conversion, one thing is for sure—I no longer fear death. I know God, Love, exists, and am not afraid of nothingness. Perhaps the only way to completely break from the moment, to be completely still, to launch into the eternal singular moment, is to die. We know little of death and its aftermath because it is an experience, that is, to be still in the singular moment, which is foreign to the constant movement of life.

Watch, wait, listen. Pay attention. Yearning for the future, for Christ’s return. Isaiah says God will tear open the heavens and come down. What is it like to myself and all the world, to ache for God and await His coming? Is this not what all of us do today, what humans have always done? We await God and in our impatience we are lost to sin, fears, deception, idols, ruminations, lost in the present moment, in the memories of the past and the anticipation of the future. We are constantly awaiting God, truth, knowledge, love, release, quiet, stillness. We seek Immanuel, God is with us. We know He has come, know He is here, know He will come, but still we wait, yearning, anticipating, but are never still in the knowledge of His presence. Why? Deception? Temptation? Doubt? Fear? Unconfidence? Why can’t we know your presence, dear God? Why can’t we still ourselves, our yearning and restlessness with the knowledge of you? It makes no sense to me. If I know God is present, that God is universal, His love and care are ubiquitous, then why am I not able to still the temptations, deceptions, and movement? Why am I not able to rest in God and His presence? Why can’t I negate my most sinful behavior by giving myself to God, completely trusting and accepting? Is it my human limitations? Or just restricted to me? Is it the thorn in my flesh? Oh God, why can’t I get rid of this thorn? “My Grace is sufficient for you.” How so? I don’t really see it or understand it. How is God’s grace sufficient for me? God’s power is made perfect in my weakness, in human weakness. When I am weak, then I am strong, Paul says. When I am aware of my weakness, the awareness is what makes me strong. Awareness of weakness: what does this mean? To realize my sin, limitations, deception, worship of idols? What else? Awareness of weakness can also be awareness that I am completely subject to God, that my will must be subordinate to His will. That I cannot submit unless I become aware of and accept my weakness. That must be what Paul means when he says, “My Grace is sufficient for you.” God’s grace, God’s will, God’s love, God’s forgiveness, are all synonymous. Can one resist God’s grace? One can try in one’s arrogance, narcissism, vanity, restlessness, self-deception. We try to resist God’s grace. But who can resist God? It is futile to try to resist God, to deceive oneself into thinking that I am in control rather than God, that I “know” independent of God, that I “live” independent of God and His grace, that “I love” without God’s overwhelming Love. One cannot be an island, cannot be independent, self-sufficient, in control. One must completely submit, completely surrender. “Not my will, but yours.” Everything in me says, “resist,” and this is what I spontaneously, unconsciously do. I resist what is right. I resist morality. I resist surrendering my pride and self-control. But how does one completely surrender to God?

Maybe not by "not doing," rather by "doing." Open up oneself, let down barriers, and let God, His Word, His will, His way, His goodness, come into my life. It is there, constantly, ubiquitously, but commonly, subtlety, so normal as to be missed or forgotten. It is this normality, this simplicity, that I must "accept." Grace, family, love, nature, life. Doing what the Lord wants me to do.