The Light We Cannot See

 On these cloudy late winter days here in Rochester, we turn to indoor lighting, candles, fireplaces and flashlights to warm things up a bit and simulate the sun. Our external sources of light provide us with some physical comfort as we muddle through the lingering cold.  But what about the light we cannot see with our eyes? The spiritual Light that gives us hope, guidance and strength is a largely undefined, mysterious thing that we perceive with our hearts and spirits, but do not usually see with our eyes (although on occasion we may have mystical experiences of Divine Light, as in Paul's intense encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus).

It's been my experience that this mystical Divine Light comes to us most often during periods of intense pain and darkness (the "Dark Night of the Soul", a term coined by 16th century mystic St. John of the Cross). There is one moment in particular that is etched in my memory and that returns to me whenever I am experiencing sorrow or grief. Having lost a family member through tragic circumstances recently, this experience came to mind... 

Eight years ago, my mother became very ill and was diagnosed with cancer. She underwent various treatments, but died only three months after her initial diagnosis. During her last month of life, I lived with my parents and took care of her, which was challenging, but I was thankful just to be spending time with her. Her illness progressed quickly though, and I recall vividly one cold January night, when she was in the hospital after yet another surgery. My father and I had driven through snow covered streets to their home for the night, having just received the news that there was no hope for her recovery, and she would soon enter hospice care. I woke at 2 am, feeling like I was in a dark hole, lost and afraid. I have never felt so utterly alone and devastated, completely unmoored, as if I had lost myself in an inky pool of blackness. In the midst of this intense pain, I recalled a verse of scripture that I recited over and over, until I saw a tiny pinprick of light in my mind's eye that became larger and larger and soon filled me to overflowing with a sense of intense love and light, as if I was floating in a warm, bright sea.

 I knew in that moment that, though this journey through death's door would be incredibly difficult, we would not be alone; God was with us every step of the way. Even though I couldn't understand why our desperate prayers for healing did not seem to be answered, the Divine Light and Love I felt in that mystical moment would not abandon us.

During her last week of life, my mother seemed to be free from pain and her hospice room was continually bathed in that same mystical light.  A solo guitarist came in everyday to play music for her and we had the support of clergy and hospice counselors. I felt the presence of angels surrounding her as family members came to visit throughout the day. 

 

    

When she passed, we were deeply saddened at the loss, but our shock was softened by the healing glow of Spirit. I cannot prove the reality of that Light, but I know in my heart that the Divine Presence of love was with us through the end.

I believe in the Light that we cannot see, because I have experienced it.  I have been in the Presence of God. I know that many others have as well and that it is important to remember these mystical encounters to sustain us during times when the going is tough.

So, no matter what our particular experience of life is at this moment in time, whether joyful or sorrowful, let's remember that all will be well, because God is with us...we are never alone.  

From Discouragement to Hope

 As I look out the window and see gray, cold and snow once more. I am trying not to be too discouraged. but it's a challenge.  February is like winter's "hump day", sandwiched between the fierce cold of January and the tease of spring in March and I find myself in need of a little encouragement (maybe you do too?) So, I am reposting a blog from February 2019 that sums up my morning thoughts exactly:

Winter is long and hard and sometimes life's circumstances can be difficult; they may even seem overwhelming.  Some days, it's easy to feel discouraged and just want to crawl back in bed.  But on these days, I remind myself that I am strong when I am weak. When I allow myself to be weak and vulnerable, to let down my guard and trust fully in the Source of all Being, his/her strength flows through me, limited only by my own lack of emptiness.

Let me explain:

To the degree that I am "full of myself" and consumed by my own problems, God's presence will not be fully known.  In Alcoholics Anonymous, people can only begin to recover when they admit their powerlessness over the addiction and are willing to trust in a Higher Power for strength to overcome what has control over their lives. 

The principles of AA can apply to most of life's most difficult and challenging circumstances.  When I am willing to surrender my fears, my doubts, my constant trying to be whatever other people expect of me, and just ask for help from a Strength that finds nothing impossible, I begin to see a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.

It is difficult, I admit, to empty me of me.  There is so much going on in my brain and body that keeps me constantly trying to do everything, solve every problem, be everything to everyone, that emptying of self is a real challenge. 

But I can start with today, this moment, breathing and releasing; trusting in my Source to provide all that I need to go forward courageously in spite of my fear.  There is an often repeated quote that has been attributed to many people; the first I believe was Mark Twain:  "Courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to go on in spite of it".

I ask for help, take a step forward and act courageously, because I know that God will strengthen me.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for your God will be with you wherever you go.”   Joshua 1:9