Slow Learner

When I was in elementary school, I received regular praise for my intellect.  What a smart little girl! they said.  My little construction paper-bound report cards bore it out, too... rows upon rows of As (with an occasional B in gym class - I've never been one for working up a sweat.)

Middle, and then high school proved far less successful.  Granted, there were a few distractions in other parts of my life, which I wore as proud excuses for Ds, sort of like a girl scout badge.  I continued to do well in those things that came easy to me, but anything else received half-hearted effort if any at all.  There was much "tsk-tsking" from teachers and parents and other adults - "she has such potential - what a shame she's wasting it."

I once heard a speaker describe it this way:  "I don't know how to play the piano, but I've always wanted to play the piano.  I don't want to LEARN to play the piano, I don't want to have to PRACTICE playing the piano, I just want to sit down and play the piano." 

Regarding potential, he said, "I had plenty of potential...but it's MY potential and I'll do whatever I want with it."

I can relate.

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I want to be a great wife and mom;  I want to be healthy, respected, a friend to all, especially those in need - I'm trying hard to learn, practice and keep learning how to be each of these things.  I have the potential.

But if I'm honest, the thing I want most is peace. 

Contentment in all circumstances, is how Paul put it.  Peace.  Contentment.  All the potential in the world won't yield it because it isn't in our nature.  Not mine anyway.  It requires super-natural intervention, meaning something that is not of my own nature.

Yet for some reason, I don't appear to want to learn or practice in this area.  I just want someone to give peace to me.  Right now, right this red hot minute.  I want my life to be smooth and simple and full of everything I think will give me peace.

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I haven't had much peace lately.  There was a long stretch of time where I borrowed it from friends;  it was sort of like stealing cable TV.  If I connect with you, and you've got peace, somehow or another I get to use yours too.

But after a while, the cable company figures it out, and there are unpleasant consequences and basically everyone eventually has to pay for their own cable.  Likewise, I can only poach someone else's peace for so long before I start running into trouble and have to figure out where to get my own.

My church has been the source of my peace for several years now - I love these people like family.  But we recently went through a gut-wrenching schism and it became excruciatingly clear that I'd been depending on a pastor, a steeple and its people for my peace.

Time to pay for my own cable.

Overreaching the metaphor, I need to plug in directly to the source of peace, the only true peace I've ever known - my spiritual relationship with my Creator.

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I'm told and I believe this particular relationship predates my own birth, that He knew me and loved me before I was even an itch in my daddy's pants.  (Well, that's not exactly how it reads in the good book.)  As a kid, I heard about this love in Sunday School and from my parents, but mostly all I understood was about floods and bread and fishes. 

When you're little, you don't really know much about what's going on and who's really listening to your bedtime prayers other than your mom.  But still - I started learning the basics of how to have a reciprocal relationship with God - how to love Him back.  I think it made Him very happy for me to learn "Jesus Loves Me" and sing it regularly, whether for joy or because it comforted me when I was scared.

I began journaling around age 10 (yes, I had a diary, with a lock and everything!) and it wasn't terribly long before I started writing "Dear God" instead of "Dear Diary".  After all, what the heck was telling a diary all my junk going to accomplish?!  At least if I told God, He might intervene and make Bob Culver have a crush on me, too.

When I was old enough to truly decide for myself, I said that, yes, I was a sinner and that yes, I was all about accepting Jesus as my Savior, especially if that meant I'd get me some peace.  And over time, and through horrible seasons, and through some of the most joy filled moments of my life, I developed my relationship with God through talking with Him and reading His book. 

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But see, here's the thing.  Like any relationship, this one needs continual maintenance and work.  Continual learning and daily practice.  Not on God's part - He knows every hair on my head and every thought inside it.  (EEEK!)  And loves me anyway, unconditionally and endlessly. 

The problem is that I fall in and out of love with Him like a gold-digging floozy.  Sure, I will holler for His help when the feces hits the fan, and sometimes I remember to say "thanks" when I pause long enough to notice that my life is actually pretty darn good.

Yet there's no real relationship in that... and guess what?

There's not much peace, either.

In fairness to me, there truly have been long stretches of time in my adult life where I was diligent and faithful to our relationship - regular study, worship and prayer journaling.  So I do know how it's supposed to work, and the ball is always in my court.

But I've been so mad at Him lately!  Slowly, I've given up learning and practicing over the last several months.  And guess what?  No peace.  None, nada, zilch.  Now I can't even friggin' sleep.

I even began entertaining the notion that all this Jesus business was hooey cooked up by a bunch of Jews in the first century just to piss off Rome.  That this book I've been underlining and memorizing for the last umpteen years was just written by several centuries' worth of deluded sheep, and I'd been drinking their dopey Kool-Aid most of my life.

It hurts me to admit I have had these thoughts.  As if He didn't already know I had them.

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Still, I've kept my Bible and my journal on my desk, sort of off to the side where I can glare at them every day and fuel my guilt. No peace in that.

There's this bumper sticker I've seen and rolled my eyes about:  "No God - No Peace;  Know God - Know Peace."  Well duh, I know that already, I've lived it and experienced it and BULLY FOR YOU, bumper-sticker-person.

But knowing and doing are light years apart.

Lately I've found myself pulling away from friends, shoveling food into my face and shaking my fist at heaven, squarely perched on my pity pot.  And glaring at the side of my desk.

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Four days ago, I picked up a pen and opened the journal.  And I proceeded to write a long letter to God.  I can't really describe it as a prayer because it was mostly me telling Him off, with f-bombs and everything.

Three days ago, I picked up the journal, read what I wrote the previous day and then wrote an apology for being a selfish a**hole with a dirty mouth.

Two days ago, I started with the Bible first - I thought it might be better to hear from Him instead of me launching into the mood du jour.  And you know what He said?!  He said "My grace is sufficient for you" (2 Corinthians 12:9 - hey, didn't I quote that recently?) and that "the peace that passes all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."  (Philippians 4:7)

The peace that passes all understanding.  Now, I'd like to have me some of THAT.  My reply letter was that of a thirsty wanderer in a miserable desert who has just spotted an oasis in the distance and it looks to be the real deal.

Yesterday, I did the Bible-first thing again, and this time He said, "Peace I leave with you;  My peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:7)  My reply letter is dotted with grateful tear stains.  And I felt a little wave of peace pass over my heart.

And so - this morning He has said to me "do not fear, for I am with you;  do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."  (Isaiah 41:10)

Then Jesus said to me - yes, really, to me, right here in my basement office with the cat puke behind the desk - he said, "and surely I am with you, to the end of the age."  (Matthew 28:20)

He's here.  Right here with me, to the end of the age.  I know it, I believe it, and I have more peace in this moment than I've had in a year or maybe more.

Wonder what He will say tomorrow?