Jason and I are trying to do a little early spring cleaning in an effort to get ready for Grandmother's funeral at the end of this month. I don't know why this funeral has become motivation to clean house- but something about having my close and distant family in my house for a reception screams: "CLEAN!" to me. I just want this. I want to give my family a tour and be proud. There are some habits that Jason and I share that makes our house less than the spotless clean that everyone fantasizes about. Among those habits is one big one: hoarding paper. Little notes, big notes, bills, statements, numbers scribbled, instruction booklets, cards, artwork, copied articles, recipes torn out of a magazine, receipts we will never use... the list is endless. In an effort to clean house, we looked up online what records to keep and what to pitch. Today, during a fabulous time of extra help with the kids (thanks to Kelly and Amy) and a surge of energy- Jason and I went to town recycling, making a pile to shred, making a pile to file, and happily making a pile to toss.
I found a few little treasures- weird treasures- but treasures. Some handwritten notes from Grandmother when she was thinking about her move to Florida 2 years ago. My notes of when she was in the hospital and the rehab center up here before her move. Notes on the aids I interviewed to assist in her care. Snotty notes about stupid doctors. It was weirdly refreshing to remember. I also found a handwritten note I wrote when sitting with Memaush while she was in the hospital before she died. This note was a little treasure I thought I would share with you...
I Am
-Moses asked- who should I tell them sent me- what should I say? God answered- I am who I am. Tell them "I Am" sent you.
I spent my entire adolescence searching for this black and white I was told exists somewhere at the end of the rainbow. Life taught me that even the blackest sky is a shade of gray- and even the brightest sun has glints of varying colors. I was stuck in a moment of time when I thought everything was gray- I admit I often revisit that moment. But my soul knows that instead- everything is color. Black is simply the pot filled with every color and white always gets a little dirty.
My thoughts have evolved over time and my heart has opened slowly to embrace my soul- who is constantly aching to be let out more and more. The theological concept that embraces the reality and dreams of life has been this simple statement by God- "I am."
God did not throw indicators, descriptives, hierarchies, justifications, defenses, or PR statements- just "I am." I believe with all my soul that God wants for us to say that about ourselves one day and mean it. God's whole story has been to bring humanity to a point where we can say "I Am" is God... and to a point where we can say with love and certainty "I am who I am" about ourselves.
I'm sitting - watching Memaush talk in her in-between sleep- the kind if sleep you get in the hospital when your eyes flutter open and closed and your body does random things without asking you... It's the look that can be mistaken for that time of travel out of this reality- out of this time- and ultimately out of this world. She looks at me from her universe occasionally- sharing a knowing look. All I know is that there is a multitude of things happening inside her- and my presence- though I cannot begin to know or understand what is happening- my presence affirms her and says to her- "I am that I am" - "You are." My soul is here beside your soul- and we may not be fully aware of what's going on- but the Great I Am- is connecting us- spinning a beautiful vine to tangle together and support and nurture. I'm telling her- your lips moving are your prayers to God- and thank God- because neither of us know how to pray in this moment.
We label so many things- and it is appropriate so we can dissect it, measure it, manipulate it- but at some point- mystery is necessary. There is grace in leaving some mysteries unsolved. God's grace is having mysteries that are unsolvable- unable to dissect- the particles of an atom- we can only go so far before we can't do any more but admit mystery. Many scientists call this defeat- but the wise ones must know and have experience with constant mystery. I am.
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