Sunday, February 23, 2020

Struggling with Prayer

Prayer and faith are tricky issues for me these days. Admittedly prayer has been tricky for a very long time, maybe even since my dad got cancer when I was 17. But it's proving especially troublesome these days.

The people I'm around at church and in extended family pray so assuredly, so confidently, that many would say they're showing great faith. But how do they know the mind of God? And what happens when things don't turn out the way they've prayed? Even Jesus prayed, "Remove this cup from me if it's possible, but your will be done." And as we all know, the cup of suffering -- at least in terms of physical pain and death -- was not removed from him. He still was crucified.

So how come more of our prayers aren't worded likewise? Why don't folks admit that what they're asking for is what they want, and add that in their finite understanding, they think it's what God might want too but His will be done. And for that matter, I feel like Ike what I (and many others) should be praying perhaps more than anything is for grace to accept whatever God answers and discernment to know the difference between a roadblock and a "no."

The prayers of my church are so forceful as they pray especially for physical healing, and sometimes I can hardly stand to listen. It's not that I disbelieve in miraculous or medicinal healing. But what of all the ailments that remain? What of the deaths due to cancer?

Additionally the prayers of family are often just as forceful but regarding things like direction and next steps. Again, what of the "closed doors"? Or even the open doors that end up causing so much pain and dysfunction? Must we step through a door simply because it's open and we prayed that it be so?

When I see someone crying out, weeping real tears, because things didn't go the way they trusted they would, prayed in great confidence they would, I have to question how we're going about this business of prayer. And in the meantime, I admit it: it's hard for me to pray with others.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Smeagol

In the Lord of the Rings books, Smeagol (aka Gollum) is a character who used to be a normal hobbit but after finding the Ring, retreated to the depths of a mountain and lived a shadow of his former life hidden in a cave.

I feel like I am Gollum.

I hear talk of continual growth and increasing wisdom (especially early on in a new year), hear song lyrics like "It's day one of the rest of your life, day one of the best of your life" and cringe, knowing these don't apply to me. I look at where I was 20 years ago, 10 years ago, even 5 years ago, and do not share any of the optimistic sentiments that my life is improving or that my heart and mind are growing.

Au contraire, I feel like I am continually dimming. My life today is a shadow of what it once was. My light has dimmed and is close to being snuffed completely out. I am not in a physical cave in a literal mountain. I do not possess a Ring of great power that is corrupting and obsessing me, as Gollum did. But I am not who I once was, and I'm far from who I want to be. I am tired and angry, hurt and lonely, distrustful and sad, busy and overwhelmed. I still take joy in many of the activities that always brought joy before, but I struggle to make time for those, and crud seems to often overwhelm any hint of contentment.

I'm trying to get help -- seeing a therapist and taking meds -- but don't have great hopes. I would so very much like to reverse this trend, to blossom instead of shriveling. Maybe it will happen yet...