On the Spiritual Journey
Serving God
This article was originally published in September 2005 as Mrs. Rutter’s mother was returning to Florida after a visit and her son was preparing for a tour of duty in Iraq, the writer resubmits this article to be reprinted, noting the reoccurrences in themes throughout our lives. Her mother is currently in a local skilled nursing facility recuperating from a serious illness, the writer awaits her son’s return in September from his second tour of duty in Iraq, and the people of the Gulf coast continue to be challenged, now by the oil spill.
Saturday I sat in the East Terminal of Lambert St. Louis International Airport, watching the National Guard fighter planes take off, wondering if they were heading for the disaster of Iraq or New Orleans. Having put Mom on a plane to return home to Tampa, I waited to ensure it took off without a hitch.
As always, ours has been a lovely visit, and our goodbyes touch us both with a hope to be reunited again soon. It gets harder to have Mom leave, feeling that it’s time for her to be close by. These past two weeks devoted to her have filled me with an unexpected grace.
No matter how full my life, I find there is always room for more caring. Despite the tumult of scheduling and putting my responsibilities on the back burner, this time set aside just to address Mom’s needs and hopes for the future fills me with a sense of responding as I should.
That response leads me closer to God’s center. In relationship with Mom, I find strength in Christ and a strengthened relationship with his father, my father, my God.
Imagine the flow of love in our lives if we can give up our needs, knowing God will take them lightly on Himself. For our burdens, regardless of their weight on us, are but feathers in the hand of God.
Sometimes, the dimension of our love flows out of how we pray.
“Let it be for You,” is a standard beginning for many of my prayers. Going to communion Sunday morning I proceeded through the line in just such a fashion praying, “Let this moment, this day, this week, this lifetime be only for you, Lord.” Immediately I realized the nuance in my prayer that would make it deeper, “I offer this moment, this day, this week, this lifetime to You, O Lord.”
We do not need God’s permission or action to receive Him. We need only offer ourselves to Him. I became conscious of how passive “Let it be” sounds. How, unthinkingly, we call the Lord to be the initiator in our lives. We speak of being “called to serve,” a state that has us waiting on a notice from God instead of calling God ourselves.
Calling on God doesn’t translate into our acting hastily without thought or marching ahead as if leading a crusade. Rather, I think of calling on God as a definitive statement, as ready acknowledgment of His unwavering presence. It seems to me that God waits on us much more than we ever wait on Him.
The idea that God waits on us is probably simple-minded in many ways. I can only conceive of the concept as a parent gauging the depth of her children’s spiritual development and, regardless of its growth, waiting for a deeper enrichment in their discipleship. How God waits on me, I do not know. I only know — just as with my Mother’s — I do not doubt God’s love and care.
And so I pray: That the families of the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Mexico and all who suffer from war and disaster do not doubt God’s love for them, but claim the strength of his infinite presence to care for each other.
©2010, E. Jane Rutter |
