Writing Marathon

My writing marathon has been going on for three months now. I sometimes feel like Forest Gump running from coast to coast! I know that I started posting stories regularly to connect with people at a time when outside contacts are so severely restricted. I am discovering that there may also be a deeper meaning to this strong need to write.  In a world where we have the impression that we are constantly walking on a path that is shifting under our feet, it is normal to seek solid ground. My little stories are my way of looking for and becoming more deeply aware of what is solid ground in my life. I also hope that, occasionally, it will help someone else find their footing as well.

While writing about the little anniversary meal “miracle” recently, I felt I had to dig more deeply into that event. Something felt “unfinished” even after talking about it twice. I finally figured out why. I have often seen God’s loving presence in events that were positive, joyful, uplifting. I am deeply grateful for those moments in my life. But that does not mean that God was any less present in those moments when I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of me for a while. He was no less present, no less loving, no less the gentle and caring Father during those dark days than he was when the sun shone brightly. In fact, I believe that without those moments, I would never have been able to see the depth of his love for me. 

It is easy to believe that God loves you when all is going well. It is more difficult to do so when all hell breaks loose and you feel that you are, at least partly, responsible for it. It is at those moments in my life when I felt less than adequate that God lifted up my head, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Don't be afraid, I am there. Nothing can happen that will prevent me from loving you. Nothing you can do will ever make me love you less.”

I am always a bit hesitant to write about “miracles”. The crowds that followed Jesus often did so because of the healings, because of the free meals, and even, as is often evident in his disciples, because of the power and prestige they thought they could gain from doing so. It is so easy to want to follow Jesus because I see in him someone who can satisfy my needs and my wants; someone who can do something for me.

The paella I ate at that restaurant years ago is long gone; the money I found on that day also. That was not what was important. If I want to follow Jesus because I love the signs, I will eventually be disappointed, as the crowds were and as his disciples were also. What Jesus invites me to do is to have faith, not in miracles, but in the Father's unwavering, steadfast love for me. The signs are but the scaffolding that helps build the house. When Love dwells in me and I dwell in Love, the scaffolding is no longer useful, because only Love is the solid ground under my feet. When the marathon has been run, and when all else is long gone, only Love will remain.