What's My Line?

   The people who help us, our teachers and companions among the Franciscans, tell us to read and pray the Scriptures, that we might grow. Tonight, unable to sleep, I decided it was time to fight my worries with faith. I put out my hand and grabbed hold of the Bible on the nightstand and retreated to the family room.
   At times like this I try to calm myself and simply open the book, not exactly at random, since I favor the Gospel stories. I like to read about Jesus when I'm worried and remember his love, his kindness... and maybe a little of his toughness. But tonight the Spirit told me to read from James.
   As I recall (and I may be wrong) James was one of the apostles who stayed and worked in Jerusalem when the other apostles began to reach out to surrounding lands. Peter was driven from Jerusalem by angry people. Paul was already out and about on his great journeys. James had to take over things in the city and try to build bridges between Jewish and Christian communities. So he begins by trying to calm his own brethren by encouraging them. When trials come, he teaches, "try to treat them as a happy privilege." Faith is tested to make us patient, and patience leads to a complete, mature believer.


   I've always felt patience is one of my most difficult challenges, especially when I'm forced to it. It's almost as hard as fasting. I read a few more paragraphs before I realized James is going to be a hard book to read and will probably be better spread out over the course of Lent. This might just be my Journey with James. So I closed the book and admitted to God how useless and weak I really feel.
   I took a look at the Bible, not what's in the Bible but the book itself. It's rather big and hefty, hard to hold. It's old, been with us almost as long as we've been married. It says on the cover, "The McNamara Family". We bought it from King's House when we were newly married, around the time our son was born. It's been on the journey as long as we have. We wanted it in our lives when we were starting out. Now it's beat up. There are pages that fell out and got tucked back in. The spine is falling apart. The cover has stains and scratches and the gold printing is half worn off, in some places missing. It looks like it's been through a war.
   And some days that's just how it feels. We struggle and try and study and pray... and things just fall apart around us. We don't want to hear about being patient; we want God to launch a rescue mission. I remember as I got out of bed thinking "If only God would send some help paying some of these bills..." But James, like Jesus, warns not to pin our happiness on wealth, because it doesn't give us life. Rather, happy are those who stand firm in their trials; they will win the prize of life, and "the crown that the Lord has promised to those who love him." James 1:12


   Now, I must admit, I'm not looking for a crown. My prayers lately have been the prayers of a lover. Where are you? Why can't we be together? When can I see you again...? It's an agony we cling to. We don't want money or power or freedom or even safety. We only want the Beloved. The crown... I don't understand. If it's something he wants to give, I'll accept it--but that's not what I want. I only want to keep going, to keep following, to keep walking with him where he is walking. I only speak--I only blog--because I am so desperately in love with him. I am the poor one in rags in the street, so rich beyond imagining that the very rain pours down blessings on my bare head. The hard ground cradles my weary bones and gives me rest most delightful. It is insanity, and I pursue it, hunger and I crave it, poverty and I sell everything to possess it. It makes no sense, and I make myself a fool to be considered a fool. The whole world is overturned in him. "The person who has two minds, must not expect that the Lord will give him anything." Hard words and finally, finally I embrace them.


   The Franciscans tell me that this journey takes time. There is no way around it. Over time we are worn down like a mountain worn away by rain. If I lose sleep over it, I don't care. If my future has no worldly guarantee, please take it. If those who knew me when my mind was lost no longer wish to know me because he fills my mind with light, I bless you, for people are my real treasure. Knowing you is knowing myself. I long for you as I long for my next breath.
   And this, I feel, is where it's all going, this is the line he tells me to find--the first step in getting myself straightened out. To know my people, to know where I belong and what I am to do, I must embrace and understand the storms in my own heart. It is a struggle that comes with a guarantee, for he says in another place "those who seek will find."

   "Love one another," Jesus teaches us. No matter what happens, keep on loving.