Am I Vulnerable? Unsafe? Or do these Gifts allow True Faith?

CHAPTER 5 Am I Vulnerable, Unsafe?

Or do These Gifts Allow for Greater Faith?

Jen’s thoughts went to what happened to her the week before and how she portrayed her old, friend, the priest. She had texted him letting him know what happened, but didn’t hear back yet. How could she go forward without knowing if she had to go backwards and redo her last chapter? She would not want to hurt him for anything in the world, after he had spent an entire evening of kindness with her, after he had spent years of championing her visions.

She thought how she knew of some people who routinely looked at the world, with mistrust, suspicion, with conspiracy theories around every corner. She knew some people who seemed always to be dealing with problems; it was like there was a sign on the door that said, ‘Come on in, I’ll take it.' She knew of times when she was certain she was let down by another. Humans are frail, after all, and full of mistakes in the relationship game. But, holding on to those feelings were roadblocks to peace. This, she knew to be true.

And, this was not how she wanted to live. Then, thoughts went to people who were so strong, like her mother, who just kept getting younger every day, with sometimes almost bull-headed strength. At eighty-one, Jen’s mother was one of the most amazing women she had ever known. Just the week earlier, having chest pains in her left side, she told Jen it was nothing and wanted to still help get the grocery shopping done. They had been walking through the produce aisle when the pain stopped them both in their tracks. Tearing mother from collecting the best green pepper, though, Jen dragged her to the ER. Jen’s mother was convinced the simple act of admitting help was needed made her weaker. Chest pains turned out to be muscle related, thank God, but in the process they caused quite the eventful day. No one takes a left sided chest pain lightly, so an ambulance ride through town, which just happened to be under a tornado warning, was a day the dynamic duo would never forget.

Neither way to live was actually what Jen figured was reasonable. She had been frail to notions of mistrust and betrayal. Her mother was a reminder to be strong against anything and everything. Was it that Jen started writing about betrayal, so then in her mind, in happened? Was it like she had called it upon herself? What about her mother? It isn't really possible to control one's own health, is it?

BACK TO CHURCH

It was Sunday morning and looking at the clock, she wondered why she wasn’t going to church. If what she was learning was true, and Thy Kingdom Come included forgiveness as the most basic teaching, why did it remained the most aloof? When she admitted to her old, friend, the priest that she had stopped going to mass, he simply asked, “How’s that working for you?”

She closed the notebook and jumped into a dress. If she was going, she was going to go with head held high. Driving up the road, she shook her head at herself, head held high? How about on bended knee?

The piano music was playing when she dipped her fingertips into the baptismal font, and to her right she saw a visiting priest. Ah, she could live another week without forgiving the priest who took away their Peace Path. She joined the chorus and sidled in next to her friend, Bob. It was a beautiful welcome home, with caring people who not only shared her faith with her, but also understood her pain. She’d not let anything come between them and herself again. And, there was no way she would ever feel like she had to find a new home. This was her faith. And these people were her faith family.

The readings always spoke to her. Today was no different; she’d hear about the wheat and the weeds. The parable was one she had actually read to her class a few years back, but did so along with the Sower Parable. Sower was such a beautiful one to teach, the weeds did not get much air time. But here they were, again, today.

Father Mark, a priest from a nearby college spoke gently to the parish. The wheat and weeds grew together from spring through summer. The problem plants grew intermingled with the nourishing wheat. At harvest, the good was separated from the bad, with the weeds burned. This, we all somehow understood, represented our humankind, where the good would be saved. The bad, would not.

But Father Mark went on to explain, science has proven that some weeds when nearby some grains, with time, take on the characteristics of the more beneficial plant. A change takes place, where if the weed was destroyed in its beginnings, possibly taking some good with it, that weed would have had no chance to change, to see the light, so to speak. Bad guys become good guys, with the opportunity.

Aren’t we all weeds, he had asked?

Jen immediately knew this message was meant for her. She was a weed, but there was hope for her yet, a work in progress! She was enormously comforted with the message. Her struggle was human. She wanted peace so desperately, yet she felt as though it was taken away from her. She wanted to forgive so desperately, yet she still saw conspiracy theories. She was stuck in a roller coaster of hopes, of letting go, of giving up, go giving in. She still wanted it all back. Yet “Thy Will” was giving her something else. She was a weed, and, she wasn’t going to be tossed aside. There was so much goodness around her; it would rub off. She wasn’t going to stay in turmoil forever. Someday, she would understand. Yes, she was a weed. But, she decided she was okay with that.

After mass, she picked up her things to leave. She was beckoned, though, to visit their off-limits grounds with her friends. They were laughing and acting like kids with mom away, inviting her to walk the “closed” Peace Path with them. Back the small group wandered. It was so comforting to be together again, in the middle of so many beautiful memories. She told them about the clover she had just found. They all knew something bigger than any of them had been happening all along, and was continuing. Hugs and smiles and much support later, goodbyes were said. Teacher-Turned-Student wasn’t in pain. She wasn’t a victim of betrayed. She wasn’t in fear. She wasn’t in turmoil. She sure wasn’t wheat yet, but she had faith she would get there.

UNSAFE?

On Monday, she had a sunset photo-shoot from a job she had just added to an already full plate. The steering wheel in her hands, she raced the mountainside, along the lake’s shoreline. When would she learn to slow down, to enjoy the ride. Not possilbe, she thought, when the clock runs out before the key in the ignition is turned. After a few more treacherous curves in the road, she realized getting there on time, dead, was not as good as getting there two minutes late. So, with a sun starting to sink into the sky, the sunset photoshoot would either happen today or another day. But she was not going to risk life and limb, or anyone else’s for that matter, to make it be today.

As she slowed her car, so too, the thoughts slowed. She thought about the chapter she was writing back at the coffee hour chair, and decided to ask for the fourth or fifth time for some help. If “Thy Kingdom Come” means we’re calling for God’s goodness to be surrounding us here on earth, what does, “Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven.”

Then the ahah kicked in, without Google’s help this time. It’s all in the same phrase. Yes, surrounded by God’s goodness, with Him in control… here, on earth. What a concept. Did it really elude her until now? She felt completely inept. And, they call me the Teacher? She scratched her head.

Thy Will.

She looked to the clock and saw she had plenty of time before the sun would set at the lake front location. The GPS also showed she had plenty more time for some deep breathes. But at the same time, her phone started beeping alerts to her. She thought to how her son had told her of his daydream to go completely off the grid. As her mind wandered to childhood days of being out of touch, she realized where she was going had zero cell coverage. It had no one around for miles. It was as a remote a location as she had ever been. And the home owner was there waiting for her. She met him in the office the week before, and she agreed to take the job.

With her mind completely lost, reliving the day of their meeting, thinking to an inconsistency in part of his story, she wondered if in fact she was safe going to the location alone. Were the horror stories of realtors getting dragged to basements really something she wanted to think about as the sun was dipping lower in the sky?

As she glanced to the majestic mountainside with the light of the sun twinkling on the lake, she told herself to stop being silly. That wolf is one I won't feed, she scolded herself. But as she took a deep cleansing breath, the car hit a divot in the road with enough of a jar to bounce the vehicle, her small frame and her sanity to another dimension. The jarring unsettled whatever peace she was gaining. And the dark wolf, once again, took over.

“Oh my God,” she half chuckled, half grimaced. "I’m like Little Red Riding Hood through the woods with a bad guy on the other side, ready to throw me into a pot for tonight’s stew." Luckily, her sense of humor took over and she remembered how the title chapter did not, in fact, need to dictate her life’s mood, even if she was wearing a distinctive red hoodie.

She kindly remembered the home owner’s honest way about him and his sincere desire to forge a new path in his life. She repeated lines, Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will be Done, On Earth as it is in Heaven. Ah, peace at last, she felt, as she pulled into the homestead. An hour later, she knew she had the most exquisite shots of peace she had taken yet. What a concept she truly felt, what a concept to believe in goodness, being unafraid to go forward, with God on her side.

On the drive home she wondered if she too was taking a chance with God on her side, writing her tale. Vulnerable? What exactly does that mean? When she got home, she pulled up her old friend, Roget. And, how does being vulnerable compare to being unsafe? Each word was listed in each other’s list of synonyms. Yet, somehow, she felt vulnerability referred more to her spirt being hurt, while her safety made her think of her body being combined with peppers and onions.

So, why did her rambling poem back in chapter two include both those words? Could she, in fact, have just answered it for herself with her wild ride? Jen had believed in the Peace Path’s message and vision and saw it work miracles for herself and for others. So, if its only hope now was in writing its stories, why on earth was she writing about Little Red Riding Hood?

At the keyboard, she looked down and saw her own hands folded in front of the keys. Vulnerable? Could her heart be broken again? Unsafe? Could her public message cause her to be in danger?

Thy will be done. She pulled her index card closer to see what the next chapter would bring. She had the ultimate friend on her side; she was moving on.