I Will Find You, And You Will Find Me
This is how I begin my meditation practice. “I will find You, and You will find me,” I chant.
I used to start out lifting my hands in praise. It was a true reflection of the whole me at that time. I have changed. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost and found and lost and found God again. It’s the most unplanned, unsettling rhythm in my life. I have been through hardship and doubt, and saying I have been through it does not necessarily mean I have come clear out onto the other side of those things. It means I have come to a place of some acceptance.
I used to think I had to deny or cut off the pieces of myself that were undesirable to me. Got that piece of questioning out of the way? Slammed some verses down on it? Shamed myself and took all the blame for not trusting or being able to comprehend the circumstances? Ok, good. Now I can meditate or enter the Presence. Now I can start breaking camp in the spiritual desert in which I’ve found myself. Now I can find that pure state of stillness and contemplation.
As. If. ;)
I am learning that I don’t have to rinse and shake up my feelings and dump them out on the ground before I can connect with the divine. If God truly has a plan for wholeness in mind, I’ve got to bring all of me.
Acceptance involves allowing the me that exists now to be at home in myself, even with the messiness I keep scattered about in regions of my heart, mind, and soul. I’m not tossing my feelings aside as rubbish simply because I can’t find my way back to God in the way I once knew this Person. I am relying instead on everything I have learned about grace and about divine love to help me be at peace with my baggage-containing self. I’m learning to welcome the messy parts, instead of always trying to wrestle them. In acceptance, I am learning to love my shadows, too.
I don’t experience God or Presence in the way that I once did. I’m expanding my horizons, even if I must pass through a long wilderness to do so. I don’t always confidently know I am wandering toward a purpose, but I am confident that if I am seeking and Love is finding, then we are going to end up sharing a campfire.
So at the risk of sounding like Chirrut Imwe from Rogue One, (my favorite!), I lift my closed eyes toward the sky and repeat the line that rings true and reverberates through my being: I will find You, and You will find me.
Perhaps I will one day have the courage to put an always in there.
Peace to you,