“... a voice crying in the wilderness”
This statement is used to describe John the Baptist. I have heard this statement during the Christian time of advent, the four weeks preceding Christmas.
During the past few weeks, this description has echoed in my soul in a way that is strange to me. Up to this point in my life, I have visualized this wild man calling down the established people in power in the Jewish church during the time of Christ. Recently, my inner voice has been crying out for a couple of reasons. The reasons are more personal.
First, and I have mentioned this over the past couple of writings, I am observing a growing burden in my soul given the current sufferings in our communities, our country and our world. I see the homeless people here in Fond du Lac. I am in contact almost daily with people living with addiction, mental illness, and various kinds of neglect. I often struggle with a sense of helplessness. I am one person in the universe.
WHAT CAN I POSSIBLY DO TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE???????
Be still and know that I am NOT God.
Divine Master is.
Great Mystery is.
I don’t have to be God.
My addictive nature puts my mind in to a false sense of power and control. Sobriety offers me striking mindfulness of this lie, this darkness, and this sense of mortal confinement.
My sober Spirit frees me from the bondage of this addictive confinement. I am able to celebrate the glimpses of Divine. The freedom of the recognition of the presence of this power greater than myself is monumental, yet simple.
Second, there is a voice in the wilderness. My mind is the wilderness. The voice of God is crying in my wilderness. However, I do believe that the voice is changing. The cry is softening. In sobriety, I am learning to celebrate being in community, out of the wilderness, in growing mindfulness of the evolution and transformation of my Spirit and purpose.
God is granting me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
God is granting me the courage to change the things I can, and
God is granting me the wisdom to know the difference.
This is the sound of the voice crying in the wilderness of my spirit.
As I rest with this Divine voice, I hear the grace of suffering. I hear the crying of my spirit. I am learning to express these tears with love and grace. This is the energy of prayer. This is the energy that I will never understand, yet I am witnessing it in the miracles of life.
Last night we watched the “White Hats” of Syria as they dug people out of the bombed rubble. They endanger their lives every day while saving lives every day. They live the miracle of our prayers every day.
I heard of the firefighters from a community to our north. They raised money to give sleeping bags to homeless people. I hear of volunteers working in our homeless shelter here in Fond du Lac. I watch the gathering of people in our Yoga classes, people from mental health centers, jails, recovery centers, our veterans, and our community in general. These are the miracles of our prayerful energy.
As we grow in our mindfulness of the voice crying in our wilderness, as we respond to this voice, we participate in the miracles of the promise of the God of our individual and collective experiences.
As we gather beside restful waters, we can express gratitude for the voice, our response, and the miracles.