New Mantra: Be Surprised
Morgan and I went on a sister's Valentines date yesterday. It might have been the best date I've ever been on. :)
God's been surprising me a lot the past few weeks. I've stopped trying so hard to communicate with him. I love to write out long prayers, or set aside time to "go to coffee with Jesus." Literally, that's what I put in my iCal. But lately life has been taking so much energy that I can't force myself to expend any more on communicating with God in formal ways. Good or bad, my formal prayer times are becoming less frequent right now.
But instead, I've found myself praying more like a little kid. Like someone who can only observe, not evaluate or figure out. At random times throughout the day, in random ways, I pray. Without effort. I climb into bed at night and curl up in a ball and name my feelings to him. "God, stress." "God, anger." "God, loneliness." I just name things. I observe what's in me and what's in my world and just tell him in a word or two.
Or, sometimes it's even more strange. Sometimes I can communicate with God through my heart without words. You may think I'm crazy, but I feel God putting emotions in my heart sometimes, communing with me through what I feel. I was driving down Woodmont the other day and I saw a tow truck towing a car that was badly mutilated from a wreck. The point of impact had obviously been right on the driver's side door. And I was instantly broken for that person, without knowing anything about them. I unconsciously extended my hand out towards that car and felt my heart emotioning to God, pleading on behalf of the person who was in that car without words. I was broken for them. Or rather, the Spirit of God in me was broken for them. How many times do I see wrecked cars in a week? Plenty. How many times do I feel overwhelmed with emotion about them? Not often. My response was not from myself.
So in my newfound wordless prayers and one-word observations, there is one thing that keeps coming up for me: lonely. Not because I have a lack of friends, but rather in spite of my many friends. I see hundreds of people each day. I laugh with so many, talk with so many, smile at so many, but still crawl in bed sometimes and say, "God, lonely." I can spend a whole evening with someone and walk away lonely, and it makes little sense.
But Morgan and I were talking on our date last night about community, and how if we don't look people in the eye when we talk to them, we walk away feeling like we never interacted with them at all.
The same is true if you only talk about the weather. Or classes. Or television. There are ways to talk to someone and never interact with them at all.
Someone told me when I was graduating high school that I was about to enter the best time of my life for community. That college would be saturated with the deepest friendships of my life. And here I am 3/4 in, I told Morgan, and I still feel as though I had deeper friendships in high school. I feel as though college is all about acquaintances, stretching yourself wide, knowing everyone's name, and watching your social circles ebb and flow. Every new school year brings a new set of relationships. We are transient.
Morgan said she wants less acquaintances and more deep friends. I do too. And I want to look people in the eye and really know them. I want people to look me in the eye and care about what I'm saying to them. I want us to learn how to communicate better. If I can communicate with God through feelings and an active presence and an absence of words, why do my many words during the day amount to shallow relationships with other people? Could it be that we are expecting words to bind us together in a way that they cannot?
Back to what I said about God surprising me a lot lately. I used to think that in order for God to answer prayers, or in order for me to notice when he answers, I had to pray specifically. And I still think there is lots of value in specific praying and inviting God to show up in certain ways. But I haven't been doing much of that lately. I've been saying "worried" or "alone" or whatever. But I had a Hebrew study session on Thursday with Kelsey and William, and I realized I felt connected to these new friends more than I had with anyone all week. And then I sat in a convo with Sarah and Other Kelsey on Friday and felt that in our silence we were together. And then on my date with Morgan last night, we talked for hours about who we are, how we are becoming more self-aware, how well we know each other, and how similar we are in some of our little quirks (like eye paths, if you're reading this, M!). And I drove home telling God how I always thought my sister and I were opposites, when really we are so alike. I know how to use art metaphors to communicate with her. We use our common love of tea, reading people, and yoga to talk about life. I finish her sentences for her and she lets me go to the bathroom every 10 minutes. I have a small bladder. Anyway.
So I don't know, I guess I'm in a funny little phase with the Lord right now, communing with him through being present and aware more than anything else. And he's showing up and blessing me in surprising ways. Very surprising. Because who ever thought I would say Morgan and I are similar???
Love you, Mo. :)
God's been surprising me a lot the past few weeks. I've stopped trying so hard to communicate with him. I love to write out long prayers, or set aside time to "go to coffee with Jesus." Literally, that's what I put in my iCal. But lately life has been taking so much energy that I can't force myself to expend any more on communicating with God in formal ways. Good or bad, my formal prayer times are becoming less frequent right now.
But instead, I've found myself praying more like a little kid. Like someone who can only observe, not evaluate or figure out. At random times throughout the day, in random ways, I pray. Without effort. I climb into bed at night and curl up in a ball and name my feelings to him. "God, stress." "God, anger." "God, loneliness." I just name things. I observe what's in me and what's in my world and just tell him in a word or two.
Or, sometimes it's even more strange. Sometimes I can communicate with God through my heart without words. You may think I'm crazy, but I feel God putting emotions in my heart sometimes, communing with me through what I feel. I was driving down Woodmont the other day and I saw a tow truck towing a car that was badly mutilated from a wreck. The point of impact had obviously been right on the driver's side door. And I was instantly broken for that person, without knowing anything about them. I unconsciously extended my hand out towards that car and felt my heart emotioning to God, pleading on behalf of the person who was in that car without words. I was broken for them. Or rather, the Spirit of God in me was broken for them. How many times do I see wrecked cars in a week? Plenty. How many times do I feel overwhelmed with emotion about them? Not often. My response was not from myself.
So in my newfound wordless prayers and one-word observations, there is one thing that keeps coming up for me: lonely. Not because I have a lack of friends, but rather in spite of my many friends. I see hundreds of people each day. I laugh with so many, talk with so many, smile at so many, but still crawl in bed sometimes and say, "God, lonely." I can spend a whole evening with someone and walk away lonely, and it makes little sense.
But Morgan and I were talking on our date last night about community, and how if we don't look people in the eye when we talk to them, we walk away feeling like we never interacted with them at all.
The same is true if you only talk about the weather. Or classes. Or television. There are ways to talk to someone and never interact with them at all.
Someone told me when I was graduating high school that I was about to enter the best time of my life for community. That college would be saturated with the deepest friendships of my life. And here I am 3/4 in, I told Morgan, and I still feel as though I had deeper friendships in high school. I feel as though college is all about acquaintances, stretching yourself wide, knowing everyone's name, and watching your social circles ebb and flow. Every new school year brings a new set of relationships. We are transient.
Morgan said she wants less acquaintances and more deep friends. I do too. And I want to look people in the eye and really know them. I want people to look me in the eye and care about what I'm saying to them. I want us to learn how to communicate better. If I can communicate with God through feelings and an active presence and an absence of words, why do my many words during the day amount to shallow relationships with other people? Could it be that we are expecting words to bind us together in a way that they cannot?
Back to what I said about God surprising me a lot lately. I used to think that in order for God to answer prayers, or in order for me to notice when he answers, I had to pray specifically. And I still think there is lots of value in specific praying and inviting God to show up in certain ways. But I haven't been doing much of that lately. I've been saying "worried" or "alone" or whatever. But I had a Hebrew study session on Thursday with Kelsey and William, and I realized I felt connected to these new friends more than I had with anyone all week. And then I sat in a convo with Sarah and Other Kelsey on Friday and felt that in our silence we were together. And then on my date with Morgan last night, we talked for hours about who we are, how we are becoming more self-aware, how well we know each other, and how similar we are in some of our little quirks (like eye paths, if you're reading this, M!). And I drove home telling God how I always thought my sister and I were opposites, when really we are so alike. I know how to use art metaphors to communicate with her. We use our common love of tea, reading people, and yoga to talk about life. I finish her sentences for her and she lets me go to the bathroom every 10 minutes. I have a small bladder. Anyway.
So I don't know, I guess I'm in a funny little phase with the Lord right now, communing with him through being present and aware more than anything else. And he's showing up and blessing me in surprising ways. Very surprising. Because who ever thought I would say Morgan and I are similar???
Love you, Mo. :)
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