Rhythms of Growth. Linda Douty
many of us were taught to treat with disdain. (Bury it, ignore it, get rid of it—good people don’t get angry.) However, anger can provide significant information for us in the discernment process, teaching us vital truths about ourselves. Rather than rushing to judgment and blaming others for the feeling, we can use our anger as a blinking stoplight, which prompts us to ask, “What in me is reacting so angrily? What wound in me is reopening?” The emotion itself bears no fault; our automatic acting out gets us in trouble. Sometimes, rather than act on the anger in a responsible and grace-filled way, we choose to feed the negativity.
Even the feeling of love can emerge from a variety of inner causes. It may be sexual attraction; it may be neediness. It can also be part of the greater love that dwells within us and longs for expression in the world.
Though people have warned us that trusting our feelings is foolish or selfish, our remarkable emotional system is part of the process of listening to God. So let’s remember that God speaks not in spite of our feelings but often through them.
Reflect: Be especially aware of the power of your emotions today. What might God be inviting you to learn through them? Allow divine guidance to speak through your feelings.
FEBRUARY 5 • God Is in Control?
Well, yes, . . . and no. Close examination of this glib assumption that “God is in control” leads any thinking person to some questions and caveats. Does this mean everything that happens is God’s will, so we accept it as holy decree? What about the gift of free will?
One signpost of spiritual maturity comes in our increasing capacity to embrace paradox and mystery. Consideration of God’s “control” offers one opportunity. As human beings, we want to know why events happen the way they do. We often rush to distorted answers to gain intellectual satisfaction. We want to make sense of it! Whether we’re considering triumph or tragedy, we tend to think in terms of reward or punishment from an all-powerful God. The question Why? can trigger spiritual paralysis. We want to hold something or someone accountable for life’s puzzling events. In our quest to find the cause or place the blame, some of us malign God’s nature by making God responsible for everything—in other words, in control.
Recently, while sitting with a young couple whose only child had been killed in a traffic accident, I met a friend who came by to offer comfort. This well-intentioned but misguided person told the hurting parents that the certainty that this tragedy was God’s will should offer reassurance. How could this hurting couple receive consolation from the Person who willed (supposedly) their daughter’s death?
Things don’t always happen according to our plans and desires. Because we feel that we lack control over our lives, we want someone to be in control. But complexity and uncertainty are part of life.
Still, God is not absent or uninvolved. The divine heart breaks along with ours in times of trouble and celebrates with us in times of joy. We stand on the solid rock of God’s loving presence, and God’s desire for relationship is nothing short of a miracle. True discernment then takes root in our relationship with the Divine. Attempting to figure it out by listing pros and cons may contribute to decision making, but spiritual discernment involves far more than that.
No matter how circumstances evolve, we receive the invitation to participate (free will) in our own recovery process by working with a God (divine Sovereign) whose very nature is healing and whose will for us is wholeness. Perhaps that is the ultimate “control” that God exercises as part of God’s loving nature.
Reflect: Explore your feelings about God’s control, affirming both divine sovereignty and free will—embracing both as true and life-giving.
FEBRUARY 6 • My Purpose
Another popular idea that begs for deprogramming is the belief that “God has one purpose for me, and it’s up to me to find it.” This sets up yet another distortion of God’s nature—that of One who plays hide-and-seek with us, requiring us to search for a destiny hidden in the clouds.
A wise friend confronted me years ago when I was pursuing that elusive blueprint called “my purpose.” His words turned my thinking and my theology around. He countered, “What kind of God do you worship—one who teases and hides things from you? What if your real purpose is to be loving and faithful and to make compassionate use of your God-given gifts? In many ways, God may leave it up to you whether that happens in Cincinnati or Seattle—or whether you become a social worker or a stay-at-home mom. God’s will for you to be a channel of love in the world can be lived out in any number of ways. Remember, we are not puppets!”
My friend’s words invited me to take responsibility for discovering and acknowledging the way I had been created by God and being available to the flow of divine love, whether I sold shoes or ran for the Senate. Once again, we encounter God’s omnipotence and the free will of human beings in a creative dance of cooperation. To step into the dance of grace, we must learn the meaning of trust and willingly embrace our freedom to choose.
Though God may not have a specific road map laid out for us, God does have hopes and desires for us—a divine dream for us. It doesn’t matter so much what we do to earn income; rather, it’s what we do to be ourselves, the persons God created us to be. When we focus only on finding a fixed purpose, we miss the many possibilities that await us.
Reflect: Consider your purpose as it relates to the great commandment to love God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and your neighbor as yourself. How are you fulfilling that purpose in your life?
FEBRUARY 7 • Incomplete Images of God
Faulty assumptions, which are reflected in our limited images of God’s nature, can lead to faulty discernment. We can be sure that the dynamic Water of Life (the Spirit of God) will overflow the edges of any container we construct. If we think we can fully define God or catch the sacred in a net of words, we deceive ourselves. A word simply points to something beyond itself. The word sugar is not sugar itself—we have to taste sugar to know its sweetness.
We experience God in countless ways—as comforter, as judge, as friend, as peacemaker, as creator, as source of all, as loving father, as nurturing mother—an inexhaustible host of spiritual “containers.” As human beings, we naturally tend to describe God with human characteristics because that’s our primary frame of reference. But we need never lose sight of the fact that God is more than the Bible, more than the church, more than any definition—no matter how grandiose—that we can devise. When we take one facet of God’s nature and make it the whole, we distort the image of the One who said, “I am who I am” (Exod. 3:14).
Our words and limited images will always fall short. A profound difference exists between our experience of God and the way we explain the experience, between knowing God and talking about God. Simply put, our words and images of the holy mystery are far less important than our relationship to it.
Reflect: Call to mind your favorite names and descriptions of God. Do they define your relationship with the Holy One in a limiting way? List as many images as you can, reflecting on the times you have experienced God in those ways. Experiment with new images in your prayer today, knowing that God is always more.
FEBRUARY 8 • Expanding the Divine Image
Though Sally had been on a serious, intentional spiritual journey for years, she kept snapping back to a distorted image of God she had formed in her early years: a strict heavenly Father who demanded obedience—the primary purpose of the relationship.
In an honest conversation, Sally sounded exasperated as she spoke of her many family duties: helping to care for her grandchild, church demands as chair of an important committee, and overseeing some home renovations—all of which had usurped her usual devotional time. “I guess I would describe myself as a backslider!” she said with an attempt at humor. Her words conveyed her belief that God was disappointed in her. Her old image of God had returned, one of God as a kind of school principal who would stand her in the corner to do penance for her sins of omission.
Old habits and images die hard. Time and again, we must return to the true experience of God not as one who condemns but one who invites us to grow—in whatever circumstances occur.